h 



LITERARY INDUSTRIES 



B /iDemoir 



BY ^ 

HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT 



3t 



All my life I have followed few and simple aims, but I have always 
known my own purpose clearly, and that is a source of infinite strength. 

William Waldorf A star. 



iLO&b?^^ 



NEW YORK 

HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 

189I 



.^6 
WW 




Copyright, 1890, by Hubert H. Bancroft. 
Copyright, i8gi, by Hubert H. Bancroft, 

All rights reserved. 



Electrotyped by T. L. De VlNNE & CO., New York. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION vii 

Chapter I. 

THE FIELD I 

Chapter II. 

THE atmosphere 8 

Chapter III. 
springs and little brooks 25 

Chapter IV. 
the country boy becomes a bookseller 41 

Chapter V. 

HAIL CALIFORNIA ! ESTO PERPETUA ! $6 

Chapter VI. 

THE house of H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY 7^ 

Chapter VII. 

from BIBLIOPOLIST to BIBLIOPHILE 87 

Chapter VIIL 

THE LIBRARY I08 

Chapter IX. 

DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS 1 25 

Chapter X. 

A LITERARY WORKSHOP I34 



IV . CONTEi^TS. 

PAGE 

Chapter XL 

MY FIRST BOOK 146 

Chapter XII. 

THE perils of PUBLISHING 168 

Chapter XIII. 
the two generals 192 

Chapter XIV. 

ITALIAN STRATEGY 202 

Chapter XV. 

GOVERNOR ALVARADO 222 

Chapter XVI. 

CLOSE OF the CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN 230 

Chapter XVII. 
home 242 

Chapter XVIII. 

SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES 250 

Chapter XIX. 

HISTORIC researches IN THE SOUTH 259 

Chapter XX. 
historic explorations northward 282 

Chapter XXI. I 

FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL 308 I 

Chapter XXII. \ i 

MY METHOD OF V/RITING HISTORY 330 | 

Chapter XXIII. 

FURTHER ingatherings 349 



CONTENTS. ^ V 

PAGE 

Chapter XXIV, 

PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES 363 

Chapter XXV. 
body and mind 373 

Chapter XXVI. 
expeditions to mexico 384 

Chapter XXVII. 

toward the END 403 

Chapter XXVIII. 

BURNED OUT !....., 412 

Chapter XXIX. 

THE history company AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 426 



i: 



INTRODUCTION 

WHEN we contemplate a great work of any kind we are 
naturally led to inquire into the origin of it. We ask 
ourselves how it was conceived; how the germ-idea of it 
was developed; hoy\^ it grew to its full proportions; and 
above all, what manner of man it was to whom the accom- 
plishment of such a work was given. In this volume of 
memoirs the genesis, evolution, and completion of one of 
the most remarkable literary undertakings of the age are de- 
scribed, and in the most interesting of forms, namely, the auto- 
biographic. The life and work of Hubert Howe Bancroft, 
moreover, afford a study of one of the rarest and most potent 
of combinations — that of the faculties which belong to the 
scholar and to the man of action. For the m.ost part these 
faculties are found apart. The scholar is seldom a man of 
action; the man of action is seldom a scholar. The devotion 
of all available energies to business has usually been thought 
incompatible with the development and pursuit of any high 
intellectual aim. The devotion of all available energies to 
intellectual work has as a rule appeared incompatible with 
success in what are called practical affairs. Mr. Bancroft's 
memoirs not only prove him to be possessed of both these 
capacities, but they clearly show that this rare and peculiar 
combination could alone have enabled him to carry out his 
hfe-work as he has done. 

For it will be seen that to accomplish the historical enter-j 
prise to which he devoted himself for thirty years, there were 
required not only high literary qualities, but power of co-or- 
dination, administration, and systematization as great as would 
be demanded for the execution of some vast work of improve- 
ment — some continental railway, or extensive scheme of 
irrigation, of reclamation, or the development of some new 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

line of commerce. No mere scholar could have done this 
work. Emerson has said that " the scholar is unfurnished 
who has only literary weapons/' and this would assuredly 
have proved true in Mr. Bancroft's case had he not supple- 
mented the ambition of a man of letters with the executive 
capacity of a man of affairs. It is therefore in the just balance 
of these distinct sets of faculties that we are to seek the ex- 
planation of the most remarkable triumph of intellect and 
industry ; and it is not claiming too much to assert that the 
union of these qualifications in one individual may be rightly 
regarded as in an especial manner the product of American 
civilization. For there is no other country the conditions of 
life in which tend to encourage and to ripen the divine ten- 
dencies and capacities here concerned. However similar 
human nature may be everywhere, all history shows that it is 
modified by its environments in the most important manner. 
Take away the opportunities for intellectual growth and for the 
free evolution of thought, as the Inquisition took them away 
from Spain, and in a few centuries one of the boldest, most 
energetic, and progressive of peoples will be reduced to stag- 
nation. Remove all barriers to free development, physical and 
intellectual, as in the United States, and there is no combina- 
tion of energies and abilities which will not become possible. 
Even the fullest political and legal emancipation cannot com- 
pensate for the social pressure, the tyrannies of caste, custom, 
and tradition, and the constraining influences of closely packed 
population, which affect England, for example. 

Youth in nationality, space in territory, the breadth of op- 
portunity belonging to rapid, vigorous growth, and ample 
room for expression — are specially American advantages; 
and to them must be ascribed phenomena so striking and un- 
exampled as are illustrated in the career recorded in the 
following pages. It might perhaps be said that the story of 
the Ohio farmer's son, so simply yet graphically told here, 
affords no indication of special capacity or bent. But even 
in the account of that farmer boy's early days, there may be 
perceived a force of imagination, a blind yearning for high 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

things, sufficiently noticeable to furnish grounds of expectation. 
The writer of the memoirs, himself, is indeed perfectly candid in 
his chronicle. We never find him posing for effect, or reading 
new meanings into old and insignificant incidents, or taking 
credit for feelings, impulses, or aspirations in advance of his 
years. As described by himself, his mental development 
was easy, natural, and by no means rapid. It was that of a 
healthy nature, brought up under thoroughly wholesome con- 
ditions. But if there is in these early years comparatively 
little to indicate special endowments or predilections, the evi- 
dence that these had been latent is clear enough when the 
critical moment arrives. In his apprenticeship, as it may well 
be termed, Mr. Bancroft appears very like other lads and 
young men, crude, unformed, awkward, yet withal showing a 
certain resolution and will-force suggestive of decided charac- 
ter at maturity. A little business experience developed a little 
confidence and independence. The young book-store clerk 
felt an inclination to try his own hand at trade, and poor suc- 
cess in the beginning did not daunt him. 

Then came the idea of California — at that time a very 
general one among spirited youths. But whereas the ma- 
jority who went to California did so w^ith the sole purpose of 
making money by mining, Hubert Howe Bancroft had clear 
and practical business views. Already one side of his char- 
acter — the commercial — was opening out. Once in Cali- 
fornia, he sought to utilize time and opportunity. He suffered 
some failures at the outset, of which he gives entertaining ac- 
counts, but he never permitted himself to be dismayed, and, 
when his invoices of books came, he opened a store and forth- 
with prospered. Perhaps it might have been found particu- 
larly interesting had he thought fit to dwell more upon this 
period of his life. But he has himself put on record the fact 
that he " never found any difficulty in making money," and 
the very extent of his business and financial capacities seems 
to have been regarded by him as scarcely requiring notice or 
consideration. This, however, is a most interesting point in 
his career. Money-making is the most seductive, fascinating. 



X INTRODUCTION. 

and absorbing of occupations, and it tends always to usurp 
larger areas in the minds given over to it. The instances in 
which able men of business have, in the full current of pros- 
perity, deliberately paused and resolved to devote, if neces- 
sary, all their remaining years to some enterprise from which, 
in the nature of things, little or no money-profit could be 
expected, yet which could demand great, constant, and pro- 
tracted expenditure, — are few indeed. Yet this is what Mr. 
Bancroft did. 

It is not to be imagined that his undertaking issued from 
his mind complete and full panoplied, like Minerva from the 
brain of Jove. Such enterprises are never thus suddenly 
conceived. Nature does not proceed by leaps and bounds. 
Precisely how the germ-idea of his life-work was evolved, Mr. 
Bancroft relates in these memoirs. His firm was prepar- 
ing a Pacific coast almanac, and local statistics and facts were 
demanded by the compiler of the publication. Mr. Bancroft 
went through his stock of books and found from fifty to 
seventy-five works dealing with California and the coast in 
some way. These he brought together in one place, and sur- 
veying them expressed the opinion that they made quite a 
respectable showing. Subsequently, he picked up several 
more books of the same class in second-hand bookstores, 
and he found a number of pamphlets in lawyers' offices. 
Slowly the idea began to dawn upon him that the subject 
was larger than he had thought it. He went east on busi- 
ness, and in New York and Boston and Philadelphia he 
sought for books on California and the Pacific coast. Thus 
his collection grew until it had something like a thousand 
volumes ; and at this point, he for the moment thought his 
labor finished. But by this time he was beginning to obtain 
definite views as to the subject, and a visit to Europe com- 
pletely opened his eyes. When he examined the vast stocks 
of second-hand books in London and other great cities, he 
realized that hitherto he had been merely gleaning, and that 
if he was to accomplish anything both his scope and method 
must be altered. 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

Ninety-nine men out of every hundred would in all prob- 
ability have abandoned the affair at precisely this stage, and 
that Mr. Bancroft did not do so sufficiently testifies to the ex- 
ceptional character of his mind. Here was a business man 
who had, so most people would think, every incentive to con- 
fine himself strictly to his affairs. He had built up a large, 
growing, and highly profitable business, which might well have 
engrossed him. He had before him a reasonable certainty of 
wealth, " beyond the dreams of avarice," as Dr. Johnson has 
put it. It was now perfectly apparent that to secure anything 
like all that had been written about California and the Pacific 
coast he would have to spend large sums, and it was not 
at all clear that when he had collected all these books he 
could do with them anything that would prove remunerative. 
But none of these considerations afiected his course. On the 
contrary, step by step, as the field opened out before his re- 
search, his ambition and his resolve expanded and mounted. 
Accident threw in his way an unrivaled collection of early 
Mexican literature. The perusal of the catalogue showed 
him the depth of the vistas that lay before him, but the grow- 
ing importance and difficulty of the task did not discourage 
him. He bought, bought largely, and reached out in all 
directions for more material. His little collection was now 
swelling rapidly. It continued to expand : it grew from one 
to five thousand : then to ten thousand ; and by that time he 
had made arrangements with European dealers, established 
agencies, provided for representatives at all the important 
book sales, and generally made such provision as resulted in 
a steady flow of books, setting in from all parts of Europe and 
discharging at San Francisco. 

Long before this Mr. Bancroft had made up his mind that 
his chief business in life thenceforth should be the exploitation 
of this immense mass of literary, historic, archaeological, and 
ethnological material. Exactly after what plan he should 
proceed was not yet shown to him. The first object to be 
attained was the completion of the library. Only such an 
enthusiasm as now possessed him could have carried him 



XU INTRODUCTION. 

through this prehminary period, during which his expendi- 
tures were continually increasing and there was absolutely 
nothing to show for them but a mass of books. But Mr. 
Bancroft persevered, and the day came when he felt that his 
collection was relatively complete : that it was ready for use : 
and that he must determine how it should be used. The 
memoirs are exceedingly interesting at this stage. Naturally 
Mr. Bancroft consulted literary friends and sometimes busi- 
ness ones. Many advised him to employ his material in the 
preparation of a Pacific coast encyclopedia. Doubtless such 
a work would have been valuable and interesting, but had he 
undertaken it the opportunity of his life would have been 
ruined, and the world would have lost the admirable and 
monumental v/ork so fittingly completed by this volume of 
autobiography. It is not to be supposed that while the 
Bancroft Library was being so laboriously gathered, its owner 
was not thinking to the purpose about its possible literary 
use. As the extent of the field covered became clearer with 
each addition to its magazine of facts, his conceptions crys- 
tallized more and more definitely into a gigantic scheme of 
history. This, it was borne in upon him, was the natural end 
to which, and to which alone, such a library should be put. 
It was now beyond doubt that he had brought together an 
absolutely unrivalled collection for such a purpose, and though 
a history of Mexico, at least, had been recently written, and 
by a historian of distinction, it could not be disputed that the 
data now obtained very fully exceeded, both in extent and 
significance, what had been available by Prescott. 

But it is one thing to determine that a library of twenty- 
five or thirty thousand volumes, in a dozen languages, shall 
be devoted to a definite literary end, and it is quite another 
thing to make such an end attainable. The very size of the 
library threatened at first to smother the undertaking. It was 
very soon realized by Mr. Bancroft that it would be mere 
midsummer madness for him to attempt alone the work he 
contemplated. The utmost industry, steadily exerted during 
a hundred years, would not suffice to reduce into manageable 



INTRODUCTION. XIU 

shape the contents of the collection in his hands. The ne- 
cessity of bringing that material into some kind of systematic 
and easily available arrangement, indeed, constituted in itself 
a problem of the most difficult character. There was, more- 
over, no tradition or precedent that could be referred to for 
guidance. The whole scheme was a new departure. Mr. 
Bancroft was about to attempt what had never been attempted 
by an individual before. With characteristically American 
audacity he had determined to take upon himself a work the 
like of which, if ever approached in the past, had been con- 
fined to some learned body or some monastic order, carried on 
at the cost of some wealthy government and extended over 
several generations in time. That one man, and he first a 
man of business and but incidentally a man of letters, should 
undertake to write the history of the greater part of the New 
World, should project a literary series of thirty-nine large 
octavo volumes, and should consider it possible to carry out 
this colossal enterprise within his own hfe-time may well have 
seemed chimerical and even preposterous to the average ob- 
server. 

So probably it would have proved had not the projector in 
this instance differed essentially from the typical scholar and 
man of letters. For at the very threshold of the undertaking 
there was a demand for that power of organization, that ad- 
ministrative analytic capacity which is so much more com- 
mon in active than in contemplative life. But Mr. Bancroft's 
duality of resources stood him in good stead. The initial 
problem — how to use the library — had to be solved before 
the work could be begun ; and he solved it. Not the least 
brilliant among his feats is this invention of the beautifully 
scientific, simple, and practical system of indexing which he 
devised for his own use, and which may be said to have in- 
troduced principles and methods which, if intelligently and 
faithfully applied, must immensely increase the productive 
powers of authors and the utilization of great libraries. By 
this system of indexing — which is fully described by Mr. 
Bancroft in the present volume — it was made comparatively 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

easy to get the required information out of every book in his 
collection, and no matter how that collection might grow, this 
system would adjust itself infallibly to the process. One ele- 
ment of uncertainty and embarrassment alone remained, but 
experience only could correct that. Human nature is always 
a most dubious factor, and no system which is not absolutely 
mechanical and automatic can be made independent of the 
personal equation. This Mr. Bancroft was forced to realize 
by vexatious experience. When one of his assistants was in- 
structed to extract certain specified information from certain 
books, it was only of the veterans that definite results could 
be predicted. The undisciplined mind, however well educated 
theoretically, frequently found itself unable to grasp the sig- 
nificance of the great plan, and much precious time and money 
v/as wasted before a thoroughly drilled ,, staff was brought 
together. ^ -~^-^"- 

No difficulties, however, were permitted to stand long in 
the way, and when the executive triumph of overcoming the 
inertia of the library's mass had been achieved, and patient 
work on the lines so clearly laid down by Mr. Bancroft had 
accumulated a quantity of well-arranged matter on such a 
wide range of subjects as rendered the beginning of the work 
of authorship possible, the literary side of this remarkable man's 
character came to the front, and vindicated the genuineness 
of that powerful bent which by some might be regarded as 
th^ sign of a foreordained mission, and others would con- 
sider evidence of that specialization, concentration, and ele- 
vation of intellectual energy which the world has agreed to 
call genius. The practical man, the man of affairs, the enter- 
prising publisher and manufacturer might strike out a new 
system of indexing, and bring it to a working test with suc- 
cess. But it did not follow that such a man would be capable 
of putting his own machinery to the literary uses for which it 
was intended. It did not indeed follow the theory, but the 
fact soon appeared that the man of action in Mr. Bancroft 
was no stronger than the man of letters. They worked to- 
gether in perfect harmony, in short, each taking on his proper 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

functions when the occasion appeared, and neither infringing 
upon the other's domain. When the need was for planning, 
the man of action planned. When the time came for writing, 
the man of letters wrote. 

Not that the great enterprise proceeded smoothly and in 
strict conformity with prearranged purposes. To have as- 
serted that would almost have justified suspicion of charlatan- 
ism. In this volume Mr. Bancroft lays bare the genesis of 
his work, and is careful to set forth all the hesitation and un- 
certainty which beset him at the beginning. There was a 
time when his library almost stifled him : when the enormous 
labor to be undergone in extracting the gold from all this 
crude ore seemed so hopeless, so insuperable, that he was 
tempted in specially despondent moments to abandon his hope 
and ambition. It may be said with truth that at such mo- 
ments he did not know himself, for his whole career demon- 
strates that perseverance is one of his dominant characteristics, 
and that it was not in him to withdraw his hand from the 
work for which he had already made so many sacrifices. When 
the indexing system was perfected the work of extraction 
was begun, but it was long before the author could de- 
termine the direction in which to break ground. It appears, 
indeed, from his own statement, that he wished to leave the 
treatment of the Native Races to a later period, and that the 
subject was somewhat uncongenial to him. Its complexity 
and extent, the mass of new facts to be examined, classifie4^ 
and commented upon, the difficulty of the ethnological prob- 
lems to be involved, and, perhaps above all, the lack of trust- 
worthy pioneers and guides in this comparatively virgin field, — 
might well have daunted a much more experienced investi- 
gator, and would surely have vv^rought confusion in a weaker 
brain. But Mr. Bancroft, having once resolved upon the 
course to be followed, proceeded to lay down for himself cer- 
tain principles and rules. " In all my work," he writes, " I 
was determined to keep upon firm ground, to avoid meaning- 
less and even technical terms, to avoid theories, speculations, 
and superstitions of every kind^ and to deal only in facts. 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

This I relied on more than on any other one thing. My work 
could not be v/holly worthless if I gathered only facts, and 
arranged them in some form which should bring them within 
reach of those who had not access to my material, or who 
could not use it if they had : whereas theories might be over- 
thrown as worthless." Upon these lines the first five volumes 
entitled Native Races were written, and because they were 
so written they must ever constitute the most valuable and 
absolutely indispensable magazine of facts. 

In his account of the production of this part of his histor- 
ical series Mr. Bancroft introduces the reader to his library 
and his staff of assistants, shows the machinery of extraction 
and compilation in operation, describes the entire process, and 
furnishes much interesting information concerning the band 
of more or less faithful assistants whose services could alone 
enable him to carry out, in a single life-time, plans the ac- 
complishment of which upon the old methods of authorship 
would have required centuries. In the course of these con- 
fidences one is made to see how many unexpected incapacities 
are likely to be developed in an undertaking testing so severely 
the fitness of all engaged upon it. Mr. Bancroft's staff had 
to be made, and the process of making was both tedious and 
costly.' * But when all the inefficient aspirants had been elim- 
inated, he had under his hands a band of literary workmen 
perhaps unmatched for effective ability. The Native Races 
proved a stubborn task, and by the time it was finished the 
whole literary machinery was in magnificent working order. 
Whoever examines the work carefully will see that it is one 
which might in itself have served for the labor of a life-time; 
but to Mr. Bancroft it was merely the introduction to a long 
series of historical productions. What is still more remarkable, 
it was not the result of undisturbed leisure and closely con- 
centrated employment. All through his literary career this 
author has been accustomed to turn from purely intellectual 
to executive affairs. When most closely engaged with his 
literary enterprises he would detach himself long enough to 
grasp the whole ramification of a great and growing business, 



INTRODUCTION. XVll 

to clear up difficult financial or other problems, to straighten 
out commercial tangles, and to put everything in the best con- 
dition. That done, he would plunge again into his books, 
and think no more about the business until his intervention 
and supervision were again needed. 

At this point he halted for a while in order that he might 
obtain the judgment of competent writers upon what he had 
accomplished; and he determined to visit the eastern states 
personally, and submit his work to the leading Hterary and 
scientific men, as a test of the value of the whole undertaking. 
The chapters in which this visit is described are full of a new 
kind of attraction. It is impossible not to sympathize with 
the sensitive man who, absorbed in his great scheme, recounts 
his experience with men of letters, men of science, poets, 
professors, and critics whom he visited at the east. Remem- 
bering what poor human nature is, and how inevitable it is 
that the majority of men should be wrapped up in their ov/n 
affairs, and consequently offer little more than lip-service to 
even the most deserving of their neighbors, — it may be 
thought that the reception encountered by Mr. Bancroft was 
uncommonly cordial and appreciative. It is, however, evi- 
dent that at this juncture he was in a somewhat abnormal con- 
dition. His sensibility was unduly excited by overwork, and 
every show of even relative indifference wounded him cruelly. 

There was, as he makes fully manifest, the best reason for 
satisfaction with the effect which the Native Races pro- 
duced ; for not only from every part of the United States but 
from every civilized country in Europe, expressions of delight, 
admiration, and approval soon began to pour in upon the 
author. In short, those five initial volumes really made his 
Hterary reputation, and secured him a world-wide hearing for 
whatever else he might p\iblish. The two prime essentials 
for belief in him had now been fully determined. It was 
known that he possessed all the available material : it was 
proved that he knew how to use it to the greatest advantage. 
Henceforth it was only necessary that he should maintain the 
standard of work he had himself established. 
B 



XVIU INTRODUCTION. 

It is unnecessary to enumerate here the titles of the histories 
which steadily proceeded from the Bancroft Library after this. 
No interruptions occurred in the publication, and year after 
year the chronicles were emitted until the whole Pacific coast, 
including Mexico and Central America, had been dealt with 
in a manner so exhaustive that no room was left for any 
further exploitations of the subjects treated in these volumes. 
It was inevitable that the first really thorough research ever 
made into the past of these regions should bring to light 
many facts which either threw doubt upon or entirely dis- 
proved representations made previously by less thoroughly 
equipped investigators. In all cases the fullness of Mr. 
Bancroft's information, and the rigorous impartiality of his 
methods, resulted in the nearest approach possible in human 
history to definite settlement. The presumption against the 
probability of more penetrating or comprehensive research at 
any future time was too strong to afford much encourage- 
ment to controversy, and Mr. Bancroft's facts and methods 
together made him too formidable an adversary to be lightly 
challenged. 

When in writing the history of American states such as 
California, Oregon, Nevada, Colorado, Montana, etc., he 
found himself approaching the present day, an entirely new 
task was forced upon him. A less conscientious author might 
have contented himself with collecting extant authorities, but 
that was not enough for Mr. Bancroft. He felt that in all 
these cases it was his duty to procure both written and oral 
evidences wherever possible from the still living actors in 
every important event. Everywhere the American pioneers 
of the Pacific coast were dying out. In a few years they 
would all be gone, and then many weighty questions must 
remain unanswered, or doubtfully answered, unless the actual 
truth was obtained from the lips or pens of these state-makers. 
The project was magnificent, but it involved labor which to 
any man without his prior experience in the collection and 
handling of facts might well have seemed colossal. It would 
be necessary to employ a small army of agents to visit and 



INTRODUCTION. XIX 

examine hundreds of people who were scattered all over the 
Pacific coast. Each one of these agents must be perfectly 
trustworthy, more than commonly intelligent, and gifted with 
tact, judgment, and patience. For to get the essential facts 
from old pioneers is not the easiest business, especially when 
they are illiterate and Hable to those imaginative eccentrici- 
ties which have done so much to confuse history, and to 
subject it to the stigma of unreliability. In a less extended 
enterprise the simplest method might have been to issue in- 
structions to the travelHng agent to take down everything 
and send it all to headquarters for sifting and arrangement. 
This plan, however, would have so magnified the work to be 
done that even with the admirable machinery of the Bancroft 
Library the time required would have been almost indefinitely 
extended. 

The system adopted by Mr. Bancroft seemed probably the 
closest approximation to the truth attainable. When the ver- 
sions of any affair given by contemporaries were hopelessly 
discordant, he determined to publish both accounts rather 
than to attempt the impracticable feat of deciding between 
them. Of course this expansion of the general scheme in- 
creased the cost as well as the labor, and necessitated the 
addition of several volumes to the series. But, carried out as 
it has been, it has enhanced the value of all these histories be- 
yond computation, and has secured the permanent preserva- 
tion of a mass of most important — it maybe said even price- 
less — original information, the collection of which would by 
the end of this century have become altogether impossible, 
and which, it may be confidently asserted, never would or 
could have been gathered in any other way. In the present 
volume Mr. Bancroft gives a lively and clear description, 
which may be accepted as typical, of the shifts and contri- 
vances which frequently had to be employed to induce old 
settlers and pioneers to relate what they knew. Indeed, in 
the case of generals Alvarado and Vallejo, which is here told 
at length, there is all the excitement of a campaign, and the 
display of generalship is by no means contemptible. Much 



XX INTRODUCTION. 

of the difficulty encountered in disinterring reminiscences and 
records of past times arose from the greed of the persons 
holding the infonnation sought. Not infrequently they looked 
upon their special knowledge or their documentary evidence 
as property to be held for the highest market, and if Mr. 
Bancroft had once accepted this view he would have needed 
the revenue of the United States to carry out his plans. Of 
course, the better class of old settlers were willing and ready 
to tell all they knew, but there was one notable exception 
even here. 

It was necessary that in writing the history of California 
the truth should be told about the two great vigilance com- 
mittee campaigns of San Francisco. But the vigilance com- 
mittee was compelled to do many things the strict legality of 
which was open to question. They had moreover incurred 
the enmity of a great many people who had survived those 
troubled times, and had since become in some cases wealthy 
and influential. It was apprehended, consequently, that any 
disclosure of the inmost secrets of the old organization would 
produce a revival of enmities which had lapsed by the mere 
passage of time, and that possibly litigation of a vexatious 
and costly character might ensue. The result of such fears 
was that when Mr. Bancroft tried to get at the truth, he was 
met by obstinate refusals to make any disclosures, and that 
for a time it looked as though he might be compelled to slur 
over this important period in his history of California. But 
he persevered, despite the discouraging outlook, and by per- 
suasion and adroit management finally overcame the reticence 
of those who knew all the facts, and was then able to present 
a complete and fully authoritative record of all the proceed- 
ings. It may be worth while to add that no little courage 
was required to put on record the naked truths concerning 
many things which had to be discussed in the historical series 
dealing with those states and territories whose early periods 
had been more or less stormy and anarchic. In all these 
young and unformed settlements there had been much of a 
character to cause humiliation to those concerned in looking 



INTRODUCTION. XXI 

back upon the past. Bold crime, factional plots scarcely 
bearing the color of legality, rapacious seizures of land, cruel 
and cowardly raids upon the weak elements of the commu- 
nity extend into the common annals, and these things were 
too recent for it to be possible to revive the memory of them 
without striking severe blows at many persons. 

In Europe, when a public personage who has moved con- 
spicuously in diplomacy or statecraft dies, leaving memoirs 
behind him, it has been customary for his executors to post- 
pone the publication of such matter as may incriminate the 
living. Not until a generation has passed away are such 
memoirs usually permitted to see the light, and occasionally, 
as in the case of Talleyrand, the delay has been still longer. 
While there can be no doubt that such an arrangement is 
convenient for people who have uneasy consciences and vul- 
nerable records, it is evident that it is diametrically opposed 
to the interests of history, and that its most obvious conse- 
quence is to remove all those opportunities for correction and 
verification which the submission to contemporaries of his- 
torical reminiscences most certainly affords. Timid historians 
naturally refrain from protesting against a custom which re- 
lieves them of many apprehensions; but the general result is 
the incorporation of serious misrepresentations into the his- 
tory of the period. Now Mr. Bancroft could not afford to 
wait twenty or thirty years before publishing his histories of 
the newer states, and he would not soften the truth lest it 
should offend those who were exposed or discredited by it. 
The principle which he adopted as his guide and as the sol- 
vent of difficulties, when preparing to write the Native Races, 
was indeed the principle upon which his whole career had 
been directed. To cleave to the facts, to tell the truth as 
the facts revealed it, without regard to consequences, was his 
simple but sufficient resolve, and well and nobly has he held 
to this rule of action. 

There have been times when his inherent sympathy for the 
oppressed and wronged, his inherent resentment of all tyranny 
and bullying and fraud and wrong, have led him to the expres- 



XXU INTRODUCTION. 

sion of opinions in stronger terms than can be reconciled with 
philosophic calm and dispassionateness. But those who most 
disapprove of the infusion of such heat into historical writing 
must admit, if they are candid, that Mr. Bancroft never loses 
his temper in endeavoring to make the worse appear the 
better cause. On the contrary, in every instance of this ve- 
hemence in his works, it will be found that his indignation 
is excited by, and follows, the complete establishment of a 
formidable case of wrong-doing against the persons or the 
community he condemns. The distinction is important : it 
might be said that it is vital. It is the distinction between 
the functions of the advocate and those of the judge : yet it 
is a distinction which, in politics, is almost invariably lost sight 
of, and which is confused, to the lasting injury of their work, 
by too many otherwise capable historians. It is always much 
easier to question Mr. Bancroft's literary tact than the lucidity 
and honesty of his judgments : and not seldom these are the 
most honorable to him, and the least open to serious contra- 
vention, when they defy in the boldest manner the current 
conventionalities which are at bottom only base and craven 
compromises with unpalatable because discreditable truths. 

A common man would have thought himself amply justified 
in glossing over the awkward places in state history, in palli- 
ating past iniquities, in suppressing damaging facts not allow- 
ing investigation, — in short, in " making things pleasant" for 
everybody. Not so Mr. Bancroft. His view of the historian's 
duty and responsibility was embarrassingly high : embarrass- 
ingly, that is, for those who had causes for desiring conceal- 
ment, repression, or silence in regard to their past. It was 
for him to state the facts as they occurred, after he had taken 
every means possible to verify his information. This course 
he pursued with undeviating consistency ; and the time will 
come, if it is not already here, when this quality of his his- 
torical works — this devotion to truth and justice — will be 
prized as one of the most precious characteristics of his writ- 
ings. It may be safely asserted that American history has 
been written by no other author after this manner. The plea 



INTRODUCTION. XXIU 

of patriotism has been employed to justify the misrepresenta- 
tion of facts far too frequently, and when that has not been the 
case partisan bias has been suffered to intrude and give the 
color to everything. Mr. Bancroft, however, allows nothing 
to divert or deflect him from his purpose, which is the ascer- 
tainment and presentation of the truth. In regard to style, 
grace, and fluency of expression, and literary effectiveness of 
statement, fault may sometimes be found with him. In all 
the qualities of the honorable, self-respecting, courageous, and 
judicial historian, he is without a superior : and nowhere has 
he shown these sterling qualities so clearly as in his treatment 
of the early periods of the younger states. 

Many readers will no doubt find particular pleasure in the 
parts of this book which describe Mr. Bancroft's literary ar- 
rangements and the methods of his work. It was only in 
1880 that his invaluable library was placed beyond the reach 
of fire. Up to that time it occupied the top floor of the Ban- 
croft building on Market street, and while there it sustained 
one fearful peril, the store below being on fire. With the 
transfer of the books to the fire-proof library building on 
Valencia street, a new epoch may be said to have opened in 
the great enterprise, and thenceforward the various sections 
of the history of the Pacific coast continued to be issued 
steadily, and at a rate which betokened the industry and 
energy engaged. Of course this comparative rapidity of 
publication could only have been maintained by the^co 
operative system which Mr. Bancroft devised and so success 
fmly^perafed^: but some critics have made it a reproach to 
him that he did not prepare every Hne himself, while others 
haveTnimuated "tliat his personal relation to the work was 
that of the editor of a great modern nev/spaper, who as a 
rule writes nothing himself for publication, but only directs 
and controls the actual literary producers. The frank and 
full statements of these memoirs sufficiently meet and refute 
such representations. The truth is that Mr. Bancroft has 
always been the most persevering and indefatigable of writers, 
and a few sentences from his own narrative will demonstrate 



XXIV INTRODUCTION. 

this conclusively. Describing his personal habits he says: 
" For years it was my custom to rise at seven, breakfast at half- 
past seven, and write from eight until one, when I lunched or 
dined. The afternoon was devoted to recreation and exercise. 
Usually I would get in one hour's writing before six o'clock 
tea or dinner, as the case might be, and four hours after- 
wards, making ten hours in all for the day ; but interruptions 
were so constant and frequent, that including the many long 
seasons during which I hermited myself in the country, where 
I often devoted twelve and fourteen hours a day to writing, 
I do not think I averaged more than eight hours a day, taking 
twenty years together." This passage is especially interest- 
ing because it shows that Mr. Bancroft's power of persistence 
was very far beyond that of the generahty of writers. An 
average of eight hours a day for twenty years in writing his- 
tory is an almost unparalleled amount of work to do. To 
write ten hours a day for several consecutive days would 
break down nine-tenths of the most fluent authors; and 
twelve to fourteen hours a day would kill the majority, sup- 
posing them capable of accomplishing such a task. Only an 
iron will working in an iron frame could have kept up this 
extraordinary strain and made it a life-habit. But to pro- 
duce the long series of histories v/hich were issuing from the 
press during these years, ceaseless activity was needed, and 
here again Mr. Bancroft rose to the occasion with the prompt- 
ness and determination which have marked all his movements 
since he reached maturity. 

When his hand grew stiff from holding the pen, and his 
brain began to feel tired, he had his own methods of relief 
and rest. At such times he would drop the history for a few 
days and take up the superintendence of the great business 
of his house. This, which might have been more than enough 
for most people, seems to have refreshed our author, and to 
have enabled him to return with renewed power and energies 
to his ten hours a day of desk-work. The most remarkable 
fact, however, is that in these strange transitions from literature 
to commerce he really appears to have been able to call 



INTRODUCTION. XXV 

upon an unused and fresh set of capacities : for his changes 
were almost invariably advantageous to the business, to which 
he brought new ideas, clear insight, and such a fertility of re- 
source as — reasoning upon conventional principle — no one 
would expect to find behind the brow of a man who for 
months had been doing double work in an entirely different 
direction. It is axiomatic that energy is a fixed quantity, and 
that whatever proportion may be expended on one object is 
lost to other objects. But as if in defiance of natural law, 
the story of Mr. Bancroft seems to present an instance of a 
dual endowment of energy, so arranged that both engines — 
so to speak — could be worked to their highest power in dif- 
ferent duties. He himself recognizes the use his business 
training and capacity have been to him in his literary arrange- 
ments, and also in arriving at the principles upon which he 
should base his histories. As regards the latter, however, 
there seems to be a slight confusion in his mind : for the prin- 
ciples to which he refers are to be traced, not to any mechan- 
ical business training, but to his inherent nature and character, 
which alone could determine the use he should make of busi- 
ness rules and practices. The way in which a man does busi- 
ness affords insight to the man's character : only in a second- 
ary manner to the nature of his training. In this instance we 
find the character influencing and giving color and shape to 
both business and literature : the innate capacities manifesting 
themselves in each direction with an equaUty of force which 
is, as has been remarked, one of the most remarkable traits 
in his career. This combination indeed is so rare that it is 
difficult to recall a similar example outside of fiction. In one 
of Charles Reade's- novels he has a very pov/erful creation, a 
man of trem.endous will and resource, who, having resolved 
to go to Australia in pursuit of his plans, in a few hours ma- 
tures and carries out a crafty speculation by which he obtains 
the funds needed for his projected journey. In much the same 
way we see Mr. Bancroft rushing from history to business in 
order to secure the funds necessary for carrying on his literary 
enterprise ; and in every case his efforts are crowned with the 



XXVI INTRODUCTION. 

same success. Once, as he relates, the business prospect was 
very depressing. Everything in the near future had been dis- 
counted. The completion of new Hnes of communication 
had revolutionized business. A general sense of insecurity 
and mistrust prevailed, and a widespread disaster seemed to 
be possible. At such a juncture Mr. Bancroft was called 
to the helm again, and succeeded in steering his house safely 
through the storm : not without anxiety, but apparently with- 
out great effort, for the gift of administration was strong within 
him. 

It is clear that he must possess also a rare power of detach- 
ment and concentration, for it will be seen by the reader of 
this volume that he was able even in the most disturbing cir- 
cumstances to proceed with literary work, and that the direct 
menace of absolute and final ruin could not overcome him 
more than for the moment. He declares that nothing has 
been able to hinder him from pursuing his life-work for a sin- 
gle day since he first devoted himself to it, and this too is a 
striking indication of character, pointing once more to the cu- 
rious completeness of that dualism to which reference has been 
made above, and intimating the reality of a double life on an 
entirely different arrangement from anything known to ex- 
perts in hypnotism and alienism, or to the imagination of 
Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

Those who hope to derive from Mr. Bancroft's literary 
experience practical guides for the formation of habits will, 
it is to be feared, find very uncertain indications here. For 
he appears to have followed no system ; and though he says 
that he believes in rules for writing, there is Httle to show that 
he allowed himself to be controlled by anything of the kind. 
To use his own words : " There is no end to the rules and 
regulations I have made to govern my writing. I beheve in 
them. Yet as it is impossible for man to make laws more 
powerful than himself, I do not hesitate to break my rules 
whenever occasion seems to demand it." Few men could 
imitate his bursts of speed at times. For instance, he tells 
how on one occasion, finding the constant interruptions at 



INTRODUCTION. XXVU 

the library becoming intolerable, he rushed off into the coun- 
try, and there, for six weeks, he worked twelve hours a day. 
accomplishing more than in any other six weeks of his life. 
With dehghtful unconsciousness that there was anything un- 
usual in this performance, he remarks : " This, however, v/as 
more of a strain than my system could bear for any length of 
time. I did not break down under it : I only shifted my po- 
sition. The mind fatigued with one class of work often finds 
almost as much rest in change as in repose." Clearly his 
mind did, but it is not commonly found that after such a 
tremendous excess of work as he reports so lightly, there is 
enough energy left to turn with profit from one employment 
to another. That he could do this, and that he really expe- 
rienced the relief he sought in doing it, proves the excep- 
tional nature of his physical and mental qualities. 

For such a labor as he had undertaken these exceptional 
qualifications fitted and fortified him. In default of such 
support it may well be doubted whether even the admirable 
system by which the work was so facilitated and quickened 
could have sufficed to secure the accomplishment of the task. 
It was truly a labor of love, and that stood for much, but 
merely average robustness and vigor w^ould hardly have borne 
the continuous strain and pressure. When the greater part 
of the history was written, Mr. Bancroft refreshed himself by 
various journeys in search of fresh materials, the most inter- 
esting having been an expedition to Mexico. There, and in 
several of the new states, he had experiences which he has 
narrated with animation, and on returning home he threw 
himself into the work of writing again with renewed spirit 
and industry. He was away from home, at San Diego, where 
he had bought an estate and was building, when a hurried 
dispatch informed him that his store in San Francisco — the 
great Bancroft building — was burning, and that there was 
little hope of saving anything. The news was stunning. This 
disaster occurred — as disasters so often do — under condi- 
tions which enhanced its effect. It happened that the firm 
had recently laid in a heavier stock than ever before of all 



XXVlll INTRODUCTION. 

the material in which it dealt, either by sale or by manufac- 
ture. The liabilities were at their maximum, therefore, and 
the crippling effect of the fire was much greater than it would 
have been earlier or later. The account given by Mr. Ban- 
croft of this heavy blov/ is moving. It is clear that it was the 
most staggering shock to his whole life-work. Fortunately 
the library was saved, but all the printed books, all the stereo- 
type plates, all the printing material had been destroyed, and 
it was quite possible that when an exact estimate had been 
made of the status of the house, it would appear that no 
means remained either for the resumption of the business or 
the carrying on of the history. 

It is no wonder that for several days Mr. Bancroft felt in- 
capable of doing anything, or that he could not bring him- 
self to visit the ruins of the burned building. But it was 
impossible for him to remain crushed and despondent. After 
a little breathing-time he as ever rose to the occasion, assumed 
the direction of everything, took measures to ascertain his 
financial condition, and prepared to avail himself of every 
means of extrication and recovery. After nearly thirty years 
of unexampled toil ; after having — according to the common 
measurements of human endurance — expended the best years 
of his life and the reserve power of his constitution upon 
the history, he found himself threatened with complete ruin, 
yet he continued to plan and calculate coolly and with judg- 
ment, and to hope obstinately. . It was a time to try the soul, 
not only of the chief sufferer, but of his creditors and business 
rivals and connections. Evidently some of the experiences 
encountered left bitter recollections, though Mr. Bancroft has 
not enlarged upon these disappointments. Happily the oc- 
casion also called forth many generous and noble movements, 
and served to convince him that he had many real friends 
and sympathizers. Presently, too, he knew exactly how he 
stood, and then it became evident that the house was still 
solvent, and that, however heavy the loss, it was possible to 
v/rite it off and take a fresh start. For a time he seems to 
have hesitated, and to have had thoughts of winding up the 
business. But serious considerations (and probably in chief 



INTRODUCTION. XXIX 

his commercial interest) determined him not only to resume 
business but to build again ; and though this decision involved 
a great deal of very hard work, and the resumption of burdens 
from which he had hoped to be finally relieved, nothing was 
allowed to obstruct the programme, which was carried out to 
the end, and with satisfactory results. 

Little has been said in this Introduction of the domestic 
side of Mr. Bancroft's Kfe, though he has not withheld infor- 
mation concerning it. The reader, however, will there judge 
best unaided. No little light is incidentally thrown upon the 
historian's temperament and character by his home annals, 
restricted though they may be. It is evident, for example, 
that he has always been a lover of that foundation and fos- 
terer of all wholesome civilization and progress, the family 
life; and that he has felt the need and the comfort of this 
form of social existence. Not less evident is it that his rela- 
tions have been happy and strengthening, and that he has 
appreciated the benefits derived from them. Literature is a 
jealous mistress, and those who follow her do not always find 
it possible to maintain other attachments. It is not for noth- 
ing that tradition brands men of letters as notoriously unfit 
for marriage. The genus irritabile natiim includes more than 
poets ; and women whose amiability could not be contested 
have found it impossible to live with authors who in their 
books appeared full of the milk of human kindness. Perhaps 
there are fewer failures of this kind at present because the 
old-fashioned man of letters has in a manner ceased to exist. 
Mr. Bancroft, however, comes nearer to the ancient type of 
literati^ in the fervor and completeness of his devotion, and 
in the scope and continuity of his labors, than perhaps any 
of his contemporaries. That under the circumstances he 
should have been able to lead a life of repose and harmony 
in his home may consequently be very w^ell considered as 
another proof of the exceptional nature of the man, and 
especially of that dualism of character which has enabled 
him to separate so absolutely the different and incompatible 
roles he has been required to play. 

The memoirs themselves will furnish whatever other infor- 



XXX INTRODUCTION. 

mation may be needed for the building up of a tolerably 
complete picture of the historian of the Pacific coast, and 
will, it may be predicted with confidence, lead unprejudiced 
and clear-minded readers to the conclusion that they have 
been the materials for forming a correct estimate of a human 
soul deserving particular study. An effort has been made in 
these preliminary pages to point out what seem to be the 
most significant features in the character and career of an au- 
thor whose qualities are in several respects distinctly typical, 
and products of conditions which, as they do not exist else- 
where, or do not exist elsewhere in the same combinations, 
may justly be called American. It would be improper, how- 
ever, to ascribe everything in this or any other case to environ- 
ment alone. Heredity no doubt plays an important part in 
the formation of character, and Mr. Bancroft's memoirs suffi- 
ciently indicate from which of his ancestors he derived at 
least some of his dominant characteristics. Yet neither en- 
vironment nor heredity, nor both together, will account for 
the whole man. There remains to be estimated the individu- 
ality, which reacts upon the older internal and newer external 
influences ; and which controls the combinations composing 
the entity as it finally appears. The origin of this factor can- 
not be traced; and though we try to account for every faculty 
and disposition by postulating unknown and hypothetical re- 
mote ancestors, when no other explanation offers for puzzling 
and apparently original characteristics, no approximation to 
demonstration can be thus obtained, and the difficulty is merely 
shifted, not removed. 

In the case before us the actual facts are fortunately not 
beyond easy perception. The French proverb, " Bon chien 
chasse de race,'' applies. Blood will tell, in other words. 
Mr. Bancroft descends from a clean, sound, religious ancestry: 
a race of sturdy, conscientious, healthy, and industrious men 
and women. His own constitution was built up by living much 
in the open air during his youth. To this he probably owes 
that intolerance of wrong and oppression and chicanery and all 
mean and base causes, which marks his writings so strongly. 



INTRODUCTION. XXXI 

Somewhat of this spirit too he may have breathed in, for 
it was in the air of his country. But in that which most 
sharply distinguishes him from the majority of men, is that 
rarest of combinations — a high capacity for money -making 
with a devotion to a cause higher and better than money-mak- 
ing — it may properly be contended that the individual is 
manifest. Certainly this kind of character does not appear in 
the forebears of whom he gives portraits in this volume ; and it 
need not be further insisted upon that such a union of op- 
posed qualities has always been so uncommon as to attract 
instant attention whenever and wherever it appears. This, 
then is to be regarded as intrinsically Mr. Bancroft's own char- 
acter, and assuredly it is a very interesting one, and of a kind 
to repay examination. That precisely such a rare and infre- 
quent combination should apparently have been necessary to 
the carrying out of the great literary work to which he has 
devoted himself is worth considering also, and it is tolerably 
clear that this is really the case. A man less gifted with finan- 
cial capacity could not possibly have collected the noble 
library which formed the basis of the enterprise, nor could 
he, even if he had possessed the library, have so utilized it. 
A man with a more decided bent toward money -making could 
not have been induced to give up material ambitions to liter- 
ature, but would have been content with the vulgar goal of 
wealth. Strength, skill, perseverance, and judgment have 
been joined to constitute the preeminent fitness which is 
proved beyond controversy by the completion of that history 
of the Pacific States which is one of the noblest literary mon- 
uments not only of the country but of the century. 

George Frederick Parsons. 



LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE FIELD. 

Which gives me 
A more content in course of true delight 
Than to be thirsty after tottering honor, 
Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags, 
To please the fool and death. 

— Pericles, 

THIS volume closes the narrative portion of my historical 
series ; there yet remains to be completed the biographi- 
cal section. 

It is now over thirty years since I entered upon the task 
to-day accomplished. During this period my efforts have 
been continuous. Sickness and death have made their pres- 
ence felt; financial storms have swept over the land, leaving 
ghastly scars ; calamities more or less severe have at various 
times called at my door ; yet have I never been wholly over- 
whelmed, or reached a point where was forced upon me a 
cessation of library labors, even for a single day. Nor has 
my work been irksome ; never have I lost interest or enthu- 
siasm ; never have I regretted the consecration of my life to 
this cause, or felt that my time might have been better em- 
ployed in some of the enterprises attending the material de- 
velopment of this western world, or in accumulating property, 
which was never a difficult thinoj for me to do. It has been 



2 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

from first to last a labor of love, its importance ever standing 
before me paramount to that of any other undertaking in 
which I could engage, while of this world's goods I have felt 
that I had always my share, and have been ready to thank 
God for the means necessary to carry forward my work to 
its full completion. And while keenly alive to my lack of 
ability to perform the task as it ought to be done, I have all 
the time been conscious that it were a thousand times better 
it should be done as I could do it than not at all. 

What was this task ? It was first of all to save to the world 
a mass of valuable human experiences, which otherwise, in 
the hurry and scramble attending the securing of wealth, 
power, or place in this new field of enterprise, would have 
dropped out of memory. These experiences were all the 
more valuable from the fact that they were new ; the con- 
ditions attending their origin and evolution never had before 
existed in the history of mankind, and never could occur 
again. There was here a display of what man can do at his 
best, with all the powers of the past united, and surrounded 
by conditions such as had never before fallen to his lot. 

Secondly, having secured a vast amount of valuable 
material which would otherwise have passed into oblivion, 
my next task was to extract from it what would be most 
interesting in history and biography, properly to classify and 
arrange it, and then to fashion it as a historical series, in the 
form of clear and condensed narrative, and so place within 
reach of all this gathered knowledge, which were else of as 
little avail to the outside world as if it had never been saved. 
Meanwhile the work of collecting continued, while I erected 
for the safer preservation of the library a fire-proof brick 
building on Valencia street, in the city of San Francisco. 
Finally, it was deemed advisable to add a biographical sec- 
tion to the history proper, in order that the builders of the 
commonwealths on this coast might have as full and fair 
treatment as the work of their hands deserved. 

Not that the plan in all its completeness arose in my mind 
as a whole in the first instance. Had it so presented itself, 



THE FIELD. 3 

and with no alternative, I should never have had the courage to 
undertake it. It was because I was led on by my fate, follow- 
ing blindly in paths where there was no turning back, that I 
finally became so lost in my labors that my only relief was to 
finish them. Wherefore, although I am not conscious of super- 
stition in my nature, I cannot but feel that in this great work I 
was but the humble instrument of some power mightier than I, 
call it providence, fate, environment, or what you will. 

And now, while presenting here a history of my history, an 
account of my life, its efforts and accomplishments, it is neces- 
sary first of all that there should be established in the mind of 
the reader a good and sufficient reason for the same. For in 
the absence of such a reason, the author is guilty of placing 
himself before the world in the unenviable light of one who 
appears to think more highly of himself and his labors than 
the world thinks, or than the expressions and opinions of the 
world would justify him in thinking. 

In any of the departments of literature, he alone can reas- 
onably ask to be heard who has either some new ideas or some 
new application of ideas ; something to say which has never 
been said before ; or, if said before, then something which can 
be better said this second or twentieth time. Within the latter 
clause of this proposition my efforts do not come. All ancient 
facts are well recorded ; all old ideas are already clothed in 
more beautiful forms than are at my command. It therefore 
remains to be shown that my historical labors, of which this 
volume is an exposition, come properly within the first of these 
conditions. And this I hope to make apparent, that I not 
only deal in new facts, but in little else ; in facts which are 
the outcome of a development as marvellous in its origin and 
as magical in its results as any that marked the breaking up 
of the dark age preceding the world's enlightenment. Every 
glance westward was met by a new ray of intelligence ; every 
breath of western air brought inspiration ; every step was over 
an untried field; every experiment, thought, aspiration, and 
act was original and individual; and the recorder of the 
events in which this character was expressed had no need of 



4 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

old and beaten paths, of legendary lore, or of grandfather's 
tales. 

Not only should here be established a sufficient reason for 
the appearance of this volume, as the record of a lifetime of 
earnest endeavor, but the appearance of its predecessors should 
be justified in the opinion of the learned and intelligent world, 
of all who have so fully and freely bestowed their praise in 
the past ; for the two propositions must stand or fall together. 
If my historical efforts have been superfluous or unnecessary ; 
if it were as well they had never been undertaken, then not 
only have they no right to exist, to cumber the earth and 
occupy valuable room upon the shelves of libraries, but this 
volume must also be set down as the product of the mistaken 
zeal that has deceived the author in regard to the merit, origi- 
nality, and value claimed for the series. In a word, if the 
work is nothing, the explanation is worse than nothing ; but 
if the work is worthy of its reputation, as one Hiat is individ- 
ual, important, and incapable of reproduction, then is this 
history and description of it something which should also be 
done, something imperatively demanded of the author as due 
to those whose kindness and sympathy have sustained him in 
his long and arduous undertakings. 

The proposition stands thus : As the author's life has been 
mainly devoted to this labor, and not his alone but the lives 
of many others, and as the work has been extensive and alto- 
gether different from any which has hitherto been accom- 
phshed, he has thought that there would be interest and 
value in a report setting forth v/hat he has accomphshed and 
how he accomplished it. Coming to this coast a boy, he has 
seen it transformed from a wilderness into a garden of latter- 
day civilization, vast areas between the mountains and the 
sea which were at first pronounced valueless unfolding into 
homes of refinement and progress. As upon the territory 
covered by his work there is now planting a civilization des- 
tined in time to be superior to any now existing ; and as to 
coming milHons, if not to those now here, everything con- 
nected with the efforts of the builders of the commonwealths 



THE FIELD. 5 

on these shores will be of vital interest — it seems not out of 
place to devote the last volume of the historical series, proper, 
to an account of his labors in this field. 

By the middle of the nineteenth century there was scarcely 
a nation or a civilized state on the globe whose history had 
not been vividly portrayed, some of them many times. That 
part of the north temperate zone whose western verge looks 
across the Pacific to the ancient east, the last spot occupied 
by European civihzation, and the final halting-place of west- 
ward-marching empire, was obviously the least favored in 
this respect; while the tropical plateaux adjoining, in their 
unpublished annals, offered far more of interest to historical 
research than many other parts of which so many accounts 
had already been written. A hundred years before John 
Smith saw the spot on which Jamestown was planted, or the 
English pilgrims placed foot on the rock of Plymouth, thou- 
sands of Spaniards had crossed the high sea, achieved mighty 
conquests, seized vast tracts of the two Americas, and placed 
their peoples under tribute. They had built towns, worked 
mines, established plantations, and solved many of the prob- 
lems attending European colonization in the New World. 
Yet, while the United States of North America could spread 
before English readers their history by a dozen authors of 
repute, the states of Central America and Mexico could pro- 
duce comparatively few of their annals in English, and little 
worthy of their deeds even in the Spanish language. Canada 
was better provided in this respect, as were also several of 
the governments of South America. Alaska belonged to 
Russia, and its history must come through Russian channels. 
British Columbia still looked toward England, but the begin- 
ning, aside from the earliest coast voyages, was from Canada. 
Washington, Oregon, and the inland territory adjacent were 
an acknowledged part of the United States, whose acquisi- 
tion from Mexico, in 1847, of the territory lying between the 
parallels of 32° and 42^ left the ownership of the coast essen- 
tially as it is to-day. Enticingly stood these neglected Pacific 
states before the historian ; for it is safe to say that there was 



O LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

no part of the globe equal in historic interest and importance 
to this western half of North America, including the whole 
of Mexico and Central America, which at the time had 
not its historical material in better form and its history well 
written by one or more competent persons. Before him who 
was able to cultivate it, here lay The Field. 

In the unfoldings of my fate, I found myself in the year 
1856 in the newly Americanized and gold-burnished country 
of California, in the city of San Francisco, which stands on 
a narrow peninsula, about midway between either extreme 
of the mighty stretch of western seaboard, beside a bay un- 
equalled as a harbor by any along the whole seven thousand 
miles of shore line, and unsurpassed by any in the w^orld. 
Out of this circumstance, as from omnipotent accident, sprang 
the Literary Industries of which this volume is a record. 

For California reaction after the flush of the discovery of 
gold had fairly set in. Agriculture had not yet assumed 
great importance ; manufactures were still more insignificant. 
Placer mining returns had fallen from an ounce of gold to 
half an ounce, then to a quarter of an ounce a day to the 
digger; quartz mining was as ruinous as gambling. Most 
of the merchants had already failed once, some of them sev- 
eral times. As a rule they had begun business on nothing, 
had conducted it recklessly, with large profits expecting still 
larger, until, from overtrading, from repeated fires and fail- 
ures, they awoke as from a commercial delirium to find them- 
selves bankrupt, and their credit and standing destroyed. A 
maladie du pays seized upon some, who thereupon departed ; 
others set about reforming their ideas and habits, and so be- 
gan the battle of life anew. 

There was little thought of mental culture at this time, of 
refinement and literature, or even of great wealth and luxury. 
The first dream was over of ships laden with gold-dust and 
of palaces at convenient intervals in various parts of the 
world, and humbler aspirations followed. 

Slowly as were unlocked to man the wealth and mysteries 
of this Pacific seaboard, so will be the intellectual possibilities 



THE FIELD. 7 

of this cradle of the new civilization. Just as this country, 
once deemed unproductive, can now from its surplus feed 
other countries, so from our intellectual products shall we 
some day nourish the nations. In the material wealth and 
beauty with which nature has endowed this land we may find 
the promise of the wealth and beauty of mind. The metal- 
veined mountains are symbolic of the human force that will 
shortly dwell beneath their shadows. 

Civilization as the stronger element supplants savagery, 
drives it from the more favored spots of earth, and enters in 
to occupy. The aspects of nature have no less influence on 
the distribution or migration of civilized peoples than upon 
indigenous development. It is a fact no less unaccountable 
than pleasing to contemplate, that these western shores of 
North America should have been so long reserved, that a 
land so well adapted to cosmopolitan occupation, which has 
a counterpart for all that can be found in other lands, which 
presents so many of the beauties of other climes and so few 
of their asperities — that so favorable a spot, the last of tem- 
perate earth, should have been held unoccupied so long, and 
that then it should have been settled in such a way, the only 
possible way it would seem for the full and immediate accom- 
plishment of its high destiny — I say, though pleasing to con- 
template, it is passing strange. Here the chronic emigrant 
must rest ; there is for him no farther west. From its Asiatic 
cradle westward round the globe to the very threshold of its 
source, the march of civilization has ever been steadily and 
constantly leaving in its track the expended energies of dead 
nations. A worn-out world is re-animated as it slowly migrates 
toward the setting sun. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE ATMOSPHERE. 

The true, great want is of an atmosphere of sympathy in intellectual 
aims. An artist can afford to be poor, but not to be companionless. It 
is not well that he should feel pressing on him, in addition to his own 
doubt whether he can achieve a certain work, the weight of the public 
doubt whether it be worth achieving. No man can live entirely on his 
own ideal. — Higginson, 

OFTEN during the progress of my literary labors ques- 
tions have arisen as to the influence of California cli- 
mate and society on the present and future development of 
letters. Charles Nordhoff said to me one day at his villa 
on the Hudson : " The strangest part of it is how you ever 
came to embark in such a labor. The atmosphere of Cali- 
fornia is so foreign to literary pursuits, the minds of the 
people so much more intent on gold-getting and social 
pleasures than on intellectual culture and the investigation 
of historical or abstract subjects, that your isolation must 
have been severe. I could not help feeling this keenly 
myself," continued my entertainer, "while on your coast. 
With a host of friends ready to do everything in their 
power to serve me, I was in reality without companionship, 
without that broad and generous sympathy which charac- 
terizes men of letters everywhere ; so that it amazes me to find 
a product like yours germinating and developing in such a 
soil and such a climate." 

While it was true, I replied, that no great attempts were 
made in the field of letters in California, and while com- 
paratively few of the people were specially interested in lit- 
erature or literary men, yet I had never experienced the 
feeling of which he spoke. 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 9 

My mother used to say that she never felt lonely in her 
life ; and yet she was most companionable, and enjoyed society 
as much as any one I ever knew. But her heart was so sin- 
gle and pure, her mind so clear, intelHgent, and free, that to 
commune with her heart, and allow her mind to feed on its own 
intelligence, filled to the full the measure of her soul's require- 
ments. A healthy cultivated mind never can be lonely ; all 
the universe is its companion. Yet it may be alone, and may 
feel that natural craving for companionship, of which it is not 
g:ood for man long to remain deprived. Though for different 
reasons, I can say with my mother that I never have experi- 
enced loneliness in my labors. If I was ever alone it was in 
an atmosphere of dead forms and conventionahsms crushing 
to my nature, and where something was expected of me that 
I had not to give. Thus have I been lonely for my work, 
but not in it. Once engaged, all else was forgotten ; as the 
sublime Jean Paul Richter expresses it, " Ein Gelehrter hat 
keine lange Weile." Nor can I truly say that I have ever 
felt any lack of appreciation on the part of the people of Cali- 
fornia. As a matter of fact, my mind has had little time to 
dwell on such things. What chiefly has concerned me these 
twenty or thirty years has been, not what people were think- 
ing of me and of my efforts, but how I could best and most 
thoroughly perform my task. I have never stopped to con- 
sider whether my labors were appreciated by my neighbors, 
or whether they knew aught of them, or concerned themselves 
about them. I have never felt isolation. To be free, free in 
mind and body, free of business, of society, free from inter- 
ruptions and weariness, this has been my chief concern. 

True, I could not overlook the fact that although I was in the 
midst of many warm friends, and- surrounded by a host of 
hearty well-wishers, my motives were not fully understood 
nor my work appreciated. Had it been otherwise I should 
not entertain a very high opinion of either. If that which 
engaged me, body and soul, was not above the average of 
aspiration, or even of sympathy, there was nothing flattering 
in the thought, and I had better not dwell upon it. I was 



10 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

an individual worker, and my task was individual ; and I 
solaced myself with the reflection that the ablest and most 
intelUgent men manifested the most interest in the work. I 
had never expected very wide recognition or appreciation, 
and I always had more than I deemed my due. Surely I 
could find no fault with the people of the Pacific coast for at- 
tending to their business, each according to his interest or 
taste, while I followed what best pleased me. Further than 
this, I did not regard my fate as resting wholly in their hands ; 
for unless I could gain the approval of leading men of letters 
throughout the world, of those wholly disinterested and most 
competent to judge, my efforts would prove in my own eyes 
a failure. Thus, from the outset, I learned to look on my- 
self and the work, as the products not of California, or of 
America, but of the world ; therefore isolation signified only 
retirement, for which I felt most thankful. 

Perhaps men of letters are too critical ; sensitive as a rule 
they have always been, though less so than men in some 
other professions. Hawthorne complained of a lack of sym- 
pathy during twelve years of his young manhood, in which 
he failed to make the slightest impression on the public, 
mind, so that he found " no incitement to literary effort in a 
reasonable prospect of reputation or profit ; nothing but the 
pleasure itself of composition — an enjoyment not at all amiss 
in its way, and perhaps essential to the merit of the work in 
hand, but which, in the long-run, will hardly keep the chill 
out of the writer's heart or the numbness out of his fingers." 
It is scarcely to be expected that the unappreciative masses 
should be deeply interested in such work. And as regards 
the more intelligent, each as a rule has something specially 
commanding his attention, which being of paramount interest 
to himself, he naturally expects to command the attention of 
others. The attention of the great heedless public will neces- 
sarily be caught by that which makes the plainest and most 
direct appeal, that which most easily and instantly can be 
measured by big round dollars, or by pleasures which they 
appreciate and covet. 



THE ATMOSPHERE. II 

I can truthfully say that from the very first I have been 
more than satisfied with the recognition my fellow-citizens of 
CaHfornia have given my attempts at authorship. If, by 
reason of preoccupation or other cause, their minds have not 
absorbed historical and literary subjects as mine has done, it 
is perhaps fortunate for them. Indeed, of what is called the 
culture of letters there was none during my working days in 
California. The few attempts made to achieve literature met 
a fate but little superior to that of a third-rate poet in Rome 
in the time of Juvenal. 

Peoples rapidly change ; but what shall we say when so 
esteemed a writer as Grace Greenwood adds to the social a 
physical cause why literature in California should not pros- 
per ? "I really cannot see," she writes, " how this coast can 
ever make a great record in scientific discoveries and attain- 
ments, and the loftier walks of literature — can ever raise 
great students, authors, and artists of its own. Leaving out 
of consideration the fast and furious rate of business enter- 
prise, and the maelstrom-like force of the spirit of specula- 
tion, of gambling, on a mighty, magnificent sweep, I cannot 
see how, in a country so enticingly picturesque, where three 
hundred days out of every year invite you forth into the 
open air with bright beguilements and soft blandishments, 
any considerable number of sensible, healthy men and women 
can ever be brought to buckle down to study of the hardest, 
most persistent sort ; to ' poring over miserable books ' ; to 
brooding over theories and incubating inventions. California 
is not wanting in admirable educational enterprises, originated 
and engineered by able men and fine scholars ; and there is 
any amount of a certain sort of brain stimulus in the atmos- 
phere. She will always produce brilliant men and women 
of society, wits, and ready speakers ; but I do not think 
she will ever be the rival of bleak little Massachusetts or 
stony old Connecticut in thorough culture, in the produc- 
tion of classical scholars, great jurists, theologians, histo- 
rians, and reformers. The conditions of life are too easy. 
East winds, snows, and rocks are the grim allies of serious 



12 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

thought and plodding research, of tough brain and strong 
wills.'' 

On the other hand, the author of Greater Britain^ after 
speaking of the weirdly peaked or flattened hills, the new 
skies, and birds, and plants, and the warm, crisp air, unlike 
any in the world but those of South Australia, thinks " it will 
be strange if the Pacific coast does not produce a new school 
of Saxon poets," affirming that " painters it has already given 
to the world." " For myself," exclaims Bayard Taylor, " in 
breathing an air sweeter than that which first caught the 
honeyed words of Plato, in looking upon loveher vales than 
those of Tempe and Eurotas, in wandering through a land 
whose sentinel peak of Shasta far overtops the Olympian 
throne of Jupiter, I could not but feel that nature must be 
false to her promise, or man is not the splendid creature he 
once was, if the art, the literature, and philosophy of ancient 
Greece are not one day rivalled on this last of inhabited 
shores ! " 

" What effect the physical climate of California may have 
on literary instincts and literary efforts," says Walter M. 
Fisher, " I am afraid it would be premature, from our present 
data, exactly to say or predict. Its general Laodicean equa- 
bility, summer and winter through, may tend to a monotony 
of tension unfavorable to that class of poetic mind developed 
in and fed by the fierce extremes of storm or utter calm, of 
fervent summers, or frosts like those of Niffelheim. It is gen- 
erally held, however, that the mildness of the Athenian cli- 
mate had much to do with the ^ sweet reasonableness ' of her 
culture, and it is usual to find a more rugged and less artistic 
spirit inhabit the muses of the Norse zone ; while the lihes 
and languors of the tropics are doubtfully productive of any- 
thing above the grade of pure ^ sensuous caterwauling.' Fol- 
lowing this very fanciful line of thought the Golden State 
should rejuvenate the glories of the City of the Violet Crown 
and become the alma 7?iater of the universe. As to the effects 
of the social climate of California on literary aspiration and 
effort, litde that is favorable can be said for the present, httle 



THE ATMOSPHERE. I3 

that is unfavorable should be feared from the future. Cali- 
fornia /<?/-<? is 2i parvenu^ making money, fighting his way into 
society, having no time or taste for studying anything save 
the news of the day and perhaps an occasional work of broad 
humor. It is for his heir, California y^A, to be a gentleman 
of leisure and wear ^ literary frills.' For the present, a taste 
in that direction is simply not understood, though it is tol- 
erated, as the worship of any strange god is. The orthodox 
god of the hour is Plutus : sanctiis^ saiidiis^ sa7icfus, dominus 
dens sabaoth : exaltat coi^nu popidi siii : selah I All this, how- 
ever, is but for a moment. Let us put our fancy apocalyp- 
tically, after the fashion of Dr. Cumming: ^And the first 
beast was Hke a lion, and the second beast was like a calf, 
and the third beast had a face as a man, and the fourth beast 
was like a flying eagle ! ' California past, present, and to 
come. The lion-hearts of reckless '49 are cold. The golden 
calf bestrides the land, belittling man. To-morrow they will 
make it a beast of burden, not a god. And when the lion's 
heart is joined to riches, and riches to pure manhood, and 
manhood to a high and far-reaching culture in letters, and 
science, and art, then no symbol of eagle eye or eagle wing 
will be unapt to the sunward progress of the State." 

So might we go on with what twenty or fifty others have 
imagined regarding the effect of social and physical surround- 
ings, on literature and art in California or elsewhere, and be 
little the wiser for it all. With the first coming to Oregon of 
New England propagandists, books began to be written which 
should tell to the East what the unrevealed West contained. 
And this writing continued and will continue as long as there 
are men and women who fancy that knowledge as it first 
comes to them first comes to the world. 

We may fully recognize the mighty power of environment 
without being able to analyze it. As Goldoni observes, " II 
mondo e un bel libro, ma poco serve a chi non lo sa leggere " ; 
and as Hegel says, " nature should not be rated too high nor 
too low. The mild Ionic sky certainly contributed much to 
the charm of the Homeric poems, yet this alone can produce 



14 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

no Homer." While literature is an increment of social intel- 
ligence and the resultant of social progress, it is certainly in- 
fluenced by the effect on the mind of man of climate and 
scenery, of accident and locaUty, which act both positively 
and negatively, partly in harmony, partly in antagonism. Some 
atmospheres seem" to absorb the subtle substance of the brain ; 
others feed the mental powers arid stimulate them to their 
utmost capabilities. 

The idyllic picture of his life at Scillus, as presented by 
Xenophon, not wholly in the bustling world nor yet beyond 
it, is most charming. Sophocles retired from busy Athens to 
lovely Colonus. Horace in gay, luxurious Rome renounced 
wealth and social distinction, preferring few friendships and 
those of the purest and best — Maecenas, Virgil, Varius — pre- 
ferring pleasures more refined, with temperance in all things, 
and above all contentment, that content which knows not the 
lust of gain and the gnawing disquietudes of social rivalry. 

Maecenas loved the noisy streets of Rome, but Horace 
his Httle Sabine farm, the gift of his devoted friend. It was 
there in free and undisturbed thought that he found that lei- 
sure so necessary to his soul's health. At times he felt the 
need of the stir and excitement of the capital, but soon again 
he longed for the stillness of the country, so that his ambling 
mule was kept in exercise carrying him forth and back. 

Dugald Stewart clung to his quiet home ; Scott found re- 
pose among his antiquated folios ; but Jeffreys disdained lit- 
erary retirement, and sought comfort in much company. Pope 
loved his lawn at Twickenham, and Wordsworth the solitude 
of Grasmere. Heine, cramped in his narrow Paris quarters, 
sighed for trees and verdure. Dr. Arnold hated Rugby, but, 
said he, " it is very inspiring to write with such a view before 
one's eyes as that from our drawing-room at Allen Bank, 
where the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the 
trees of the cliff, and the mountain-side, with its infinite va- 
riety of rocky peaks and points, upon which the cattle expa- 
tiate, rises over the tops of the trees." Buckle preferred the 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 15 

city, while Tycho Brahe, and the brothers Humboldt, with 
shrewder wisdom, established themselves in suburban quar- 
ters near a city, where they might command the advantages 
and escape the inconveniences of both. 

Exquisite, odd, timidly bold, and sweetly misanthropic 
Charles Lamb could not endure the glare of nature, and so 
must needs hide himself between the brick walls of busy 
London, where he lived alone with his sister, shrinking alike 
from enemy and friend. '' To him," says a biographer, " the 
tide of human life that flowed through Fleet street and Lud- 
gate Hill was worth all the Wyes and Yarrows in the uni- 
verse ; there were to his thinking no green lanes to compare 
with Fetter Lane or St. Bride's; no garden like Covent 
Garden; and the singing of all the feathered tribes of the 
air grated harsh discord in his ear, attuned as it was only to 
the drone or the squall of the London ballad-singer, the 
grinding of the hand-organ, and the nondescript London 
cries, set to their cart-wheel accompaniment." And Dr. 
Johnson, too, loved dingy, dirty Fleet street and smoky Pall 
Mall above any freshness or beauty nature could afford in the 
country. " Sir," he says, after his usual sententious fashion, 
'^when you have seen one green field you have seen all 
green fields. Sir, I like to look upon men. Let us walk 
down Cheapside." 

How different had been the culture of Goethe, less diver- 
sified, perhaps, but deeper, if instead of the busy city of 
Frankfort his life had been spent in rural districts. What 
would Dickens have been, confined for hfe to the mountains 
of Switzerland? or Ruskin, shut between the dingy walls of 
London ? No St. John would find heaven in the New York 
of to-day; nor need Dante, in the California Inferno of 
'forty-nine, have gone beneath the surface to invent a hell. 
A desultory genius is apt to be led away by city life and 
bustle ; a bashful genius is inclined to bury himself in the 
country, away from wholesome society and knowledge of the 
world ; a healthy genius finds the greatest benefit in spending 
part of his time in each. 



l6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Thus we find that different conditions best suit different 
temperaments. Some enjoy scenery, others care Httle for it ; 
some prefer the country, others the city. To many, while 
ardently loving nature, and having no predilection for coal 
smoke and the rattle of vehicles, time and place are still 
nothing while they are wholly absorbed in active occupation. 
Scenery, other than the scenery within, has little to do with 
true work. If not called to consciousness by some external 
agent, the absorbed worker hardly knows or cares whether 
he occupies a tent in the wilderness or a parlor in the city. 
On the whole, the country offers superior advantages, but 
more on account of freedom from interruption than from 
any other cause. 

Change, always beneficial, is to many essential. With an 
exquisite sense of relief one escapes from the din and clatter 
of the city, and the harassing anxieties of business, to the 
soft, sensuous repose of the country, with its hazy light, aro- 
matic air, and sweet songs of birds. Thus freed for a time 
from killing care, and wrapped in delicious reverie in some 
sequestered nook, thought is liberated, sweeps the universe, 
and looks its maker in the face. Sky, hill, and plain are all 
instinct with eloquence. And best of all, the shelter there ; 
no one to molest. All day, and all night, and the morrow, 
secure. No buzzing of business about one's ears ; no curious 
callers nor stupid critics to entertain. Safe with the world 
walled out, and heaven opening above and around. Then 
ere long the bliss becomes tame ; the voluptuous breath of 
nature palls, her beauties become monotonous, the rested 
energies long for exercise, and with Socrates the inconstant 
one exclaims : " Trees and fields tell me nothing ; men are 
my teachers ! " 

Yet, after all, the city only absorbs men, it does not create 
them. Intellect at its inception, like forest-trees, must have 
soil, sunshine, and air; afterward it may be worked into 
divers mechanisms. The city consumes mind as it consumes 
beef and potatoes, and must be constantly replenished from 
the country, otherwise hfe would there exhaust itself. Its 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 17 

atmosphere, physically and morally deleterious from smoke 
and dust and oft-repeated breathings, from the perspirations 
of lust and the miasmatic vapors arising from sink-holes of 
vice, exercises as baneful an influence on the young poetic 
soul as does the abnormal excitement of business and society. 
The passions of humanity concentrated in masses, like ill 
cured hay in the stack, putrefy and send forth, in place of 
the sweet odor of new-mown grass, a humid, musty smell, 
precursor of innumerable fetid products. In the country 
the affections harmonize more with nature, engender purer 
thoughts, and develop lovelier forms than in the callous, un- 
sympathetic crowds of a city. 

A life in closets and cloisters leads to one-sided fixedness 
of ideas. Yet, though retirement often produces eccentricity, 
it likewise promotes originality. To thoughtful, sensitive na- 
tures it is absolutely essential. Every man must follow his 
own bent in this respect. Method is good in all things, but 
it is perhaps better to be without method than to be the slave 
of it. Distance from the object dwelt upon often lends clear- 
ness to thought. Distinctly audible are the solemn strokes 
of the town clock beyond the Hmits of the village, though 
near at hand they may be drowned by the hum of the 
multitude. 

There are minor conditions peculiar to individual writers 
which stimulate or retard intellectual labor. There is the lazy 
man of genius, like Hazlitt, who never wrote till driven to it 
by hunger; unless, indeed, surcharged with some subject, he 
threw it off to find relief Hensius says : " I no sooner come 
into the library but I bolt the door to me, excluding lust, am- 
bition, avarice, and all such vices whose nurse is idleness, the 
mother of ignorance and melancholy. In the very lap of 
eternity, amongst so many divine souls, I take my seat with 
so lofty a spirit and sweet content, that I pity all our great 
ones and rich men that know not this happiness. If favor- 
able surroundings are so necessary, what shall we say of the 
great works engendered under unfavorable conditions ? But 
for the imprisonment of Cervantes, who can tell if ever the 
2 



1 8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

world would have known the inimitable Don Quixote and 
his servant Sancho ? Bunyan's grand allegory was likewise 
a prison plant, with the Bible and Fox's Martyrs as the 
author's library of reference. Writing is not the soft, languid 
reverie that luxurious fittings and furnishings suggest ; it is 
the hardest and most wearing of occupations, and it seems a 
mockery, when the temples throb and the bones ache, for 
the eye to meet at every turn only invitations to idleness and 
ease. 

To the critics previously quoted I would say that it is folly 
sweepingly to assert of this or that strip of temperate zone 
that it is physically conducive to the growth of letters or 
otherwise. Variety of food, of scenery, of entertainment is 
the essential need of the mind. As for the stone fences and 
east winds of Mrs. Lippincott, I never knew them to be 
specially stimulating to brain work ; no better, at all events, 
than the sand and fog of San Francisco, or the north winds 
and alternations of heat and cold in the valley of California. 
If to become a scholar requires no discipline or self-denial 
greater than to withstand the allurements of her bewitching 
climate, California shall not lack scholars. When most rav- 
ished by the charms of nature many students find it most 
difficult to tear themselves from work. Invigorating air and 
bright sunshine, purple hills, misty mountains, and sparkling 
waters may be enticing, but they are also inspiring. 

Where were bleak Massachusetts and rocky Connecticut 
when Athens, and Rome, and Alexandria flourished? If 
barrenness and stones are most conducive to literature, the 
Skye Islands should be the best place for men of letters. I 
can hardly beheve that unless culture is beaten into us by 
scowling nature we must forever remain savages. Oxygen is 
oxygen, whether it vitalizes mind on the Atlantic or on the 
Pacific seaboard ; and to the student of steady nerves, absorbed 
in his labors, it matters little whether his window overlooks 
a park or a precipice. If I remember rightly the country 
about Stratford-on-Avon is not particularly rugged, neither 
is London remarkable for picturesque scenery. And surely 



THE ATMOSPHERE. I9 

there can be little in the climate of California antagonistic 
to intellectual attainments. In San Francisco there is no 
incompatibility, that I can discover, between philosophic in- 
sight and sandhills. On the other hand, throughout the 
length and breadth of these Pacific States there are thousands 
of elements stimulating to" mental activity. 

Agassiz insists that the climate of Europe is more favorable 
to literary labors than that of America. This I do not be- 
lieve ; but if we admit it, California is better than Massachu- 
setts, for the climate of California is European rather than 
eastern. It is a thinking air, this of California, if such a thing 
exists outside of the imagination of sentimentalists ; an air 
that generates and stimulates ideas ; a dry, elastic air, strong, 
subtile, and serene. It has often been noticed in going back 
and forth across the continent ; and may be safely asserted 
that one can do more and better work in California than in 
the east. At the same time another might prefer the eastern 
extremes of heat and cold. The temperature of the Pacific 
slope is exceptionally mild, the thermal lines bending north- 
ward as they cross the Rocky Mountains. Extreme cold we 
never have, except on alpine altitudes. On the seaboard the 
atmosphere throughout the entire year is uniform, cool, and 
bracing. There is Httle difference between summer and 
winter, between night and day ; here one can work all the 
time. Indeed, so stimulating and changeless is this ocean 
air that men are constantly lured to more protracted efforts 
than they can endure, and a sudden breaking up of health or 
a softened brain is in many instances the end of excessive 
and prolonged labor. In the east men are driven from their 
work by the heat of summer, and the cold of winter compels 
some to rest ; here, while nature rests, that is during the dry 
season, man can labor as well as at any other time, but when 
driven on by ambition or competition he is apt to lay upon 
his body and mind more than they can long sustain. 

I do not think there is anything in the cHmate that ab- 
sorbs strength unduly, or that breaks up the constitution 
earlier than elsewhere; it is rather that the system wears 



20 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

out and falls to pieces. If this happens earlier in life than 
it should, the cause is to be found in continuous and restless 
application, and not in the climate. Before the gold dis- 
covery Californians usually attained a ripe age; in many 
cases four or five score years being reached, after bringing 
into the world from fifteen to twenty-five children. In the 
interior, during the rains of winter, the climate is similar to 
that of the coast — fresh and bracing; in summer the air is 
hot and dry during the day, but cool and refreshing at night. 
A moist, hot climate is enervating ; if the air under a ver- 
tical sun is dry the effect of the heat is much less unfavor- 
able. In the warm valleys of the Coast range students can 
work without discomfort from morning till night throughout 
the entire summer, while in the east, the temperature being 
the same, or even lower, they would be completely pros- 
trated. Yet, with its incessant strain, the friction of the 
machinery wears heavily upon the system. There is little 
danger for the present of rusting out, with such an exhila- 
rating climate to feed energy, and such cunning ingenuity 
to direct it. Extremes, the bane of humanity, are here as 
nicely balanced as in the classic centers of the Old World. 
Excessive heat and cold, humidity and dryness, redundancy 
and sterility, are so far uncommon as not to interfere with 
progress. 

With reference to the oft-repeated objections to the pur- 
suit of wealth because of its influence on letters, much may 
be said. From necessary labor, and from such honorable 
and praiseworthy enterprise as is required to gain an inde- 
pendence, to an avaricious pursuit of wealth for the sake of 
wealth, the progress is so imperceptible and the change so 
unconscious that few are able to realize it. And if they were, 
it would matter not. All nature covets power. Beasts, and 
men, and gods, all place others under them so far as they 
are able ; and those so subordinated, whether by fair words, 
fraud, or violence, will forever after bow in adoration. 
Money is an embodiment of power : therefore all men covet 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 21 

money. Most men desire it with an inordinate craving 
wholly beyond its true and relative value. This craving 
fills their being to the exclusion of higher, nobler, and what 
would be to them, if admitted, happier sentiments. This is 
the rule the world over; the passion is no stronger in Cali- 
fornia than in many other places. But it has here its peculi- 
arities. Society under its present regime was established on 
a gold-gathering basis. In the history of the world there 
never was founded so important a commonwealth on an 
interest so exclusively metallic. Most of the colonial attempts 
of Asia and Europe have been made partly with the object 
of religion, empire, agriculture, commerce. It is true that 
these avowed objects were often little more than pretences, 
money lying at the root of all; yet even the pretence was 
better in some respects than the bald, hard-visaged fact. 
But during the earher epoch in California's history three 
hundred thousand men and women came hither from vari- 
ous parts of the world with no other object, entertained or 
expressed, than to obtain gold and carry it away with them. 
Traditionary and conventional restraints they left at home. 
They would get money now, and attend to other things at 
another time. 

Some degree of wealth in a community is essential to the 
culture of letters. Where all must work constantly for bread 
the hope of literature is small. On the other hand excess of 
wealth may be an evil. The sudden and enormous accumu- 
lation of riches exercises a most baneful influence. Brave 
indeed must be the struggles that overcome the allurements 
of luxury, the subtle, sensuous influence of wealth, entering 
as it does the domains ahke of intellect and the affections, 
commanding nature, expanding art, and filling enlarged 
capacities for enjoyment. Yet he who would attain the 
highest must shake from him these entrancing fetters, if ever 
fortune lays them on him, and stand forth absolutely a free 
man. Poor as was Jean Paul Richter, he deemed his burden 
of poverty less hard for genius to bear than the comparative 
wealth of Goethe. 



22 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Call upon a man given body and soul to business, a man 
who has already a thousand times more than ever he will 
rightly use ; visit him in his hours of business ; he deems his 
time precious, and knits his brow if the interruption lasts. 
His time is precious ? Yes. How much is it worth ? Fifty 
dollars, five hundred dollars an hour. How much are fifty or 
five hundred dollars worth ? Go to, bhnd maggot ! Will 
you not presently have millions of years of leisure ? Oh wise 
rich man, oh noble mind and aspiration, to measure moments 
by money ! 

The remedy lies in the disease. Excess of avarice that 
sinks society so low, nauseates. Thus the right-minded man 
will argue : If Plutus is always to remain a pig in intellect 
and culture, is always to be a worshipful pig, the only ador- 
able of his fellow-pigs, to his marble-stepped gilded sty with 
him and his money. I '11 none of him. God and this bright 
universe beaming with intelligence and love ; mind that lifts 
me up, and makes me a reasoning creature, and tells me 
what I am, withholding not the sweet perfume thrown round 
me by the flowers of unfolding knowledge ; immortal soul, 
breathing upon mind the divine breath ; and its mortal case- 
ment, the body, limited to a few short days of this blessed 
sunlight, of drinking in soft, sweet air and nature's many 
melodies — these will not let me sink. The commercial or 
mechanical plodder again will say : What are these pitiful 
thousands, or tens or hundreds of thousands, which by a life- 
time of faithful toil and economy I have succeeded in getting 
together, when men infinitely my inferior in abihty, intellect, 
and culture, by a lucky stroke of fortune make their milUons 
in a month ? Surely money is no longer the measure of 
intelUgent industry; it is becoming a common and less 
creditable thing : I '11 worship it no longer. Even envy is 
bafiled, overreached. These many and mammoth fortunes, 
made by stock- gambling and railway manipulations, so over- 
shadow and beHtde legitimate efforts that men are constrained 
to pause and consider what is the tendency of all this, and to 
begin comparisons between material wealth beyond a com- 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 23 

petency and that wealth of mind which alone elevates and 
ennobles man. 

San Francisco has absorbed well-nigh all that is left of the 
Inferno. Take the country at large, and since the youthful 
fire that first flashed in our cities and canons California in 
some respects has degenerated. Avarice is a good flint on 
which to strike the metal of our minds, but it yields no steady 
flame. The hope of sudden gain excites the passions, whets 
the brain, and rouses the energies ; but when the effort is 
over, whether successful or otherwise, the mind sinks into 
comparative listlessness. It must have some healthier pabu- 
lum than cupidity, or it starves. The quality of our Califor- 
nian mind to-day may be seen displayed in our churches and 
in the newspaper press. The most intellectual and refined 
of our pulpit orators are not always the most popular. Hard 
study, broad views of life and the times, thorough investiga- 
tion of the mighty enginery that is now driving mankind so 
rapidly forward materially and intellectually, deep and im- 
partial inquiry into the origin and tendency of things, do not 
characterize clergymen as a class. There are, however, some 
noble exceptions in California as well as elsewhere ; but there 
must be many more if Christians would retain their hold on 
the minds of men, and stay the many thinking persons who 
are forsaking their accustomed places in the sanctuary. 

In reviewing the effect of the social atmosphere of Califor- 
nia on intellectual culture we should glance at the body so- 
cial, its origin and its destiny, the character of the first comers, 
the cause of their coming, the apprenticeship to which they 
were subjected on their arrival, and finally the triumph of the 
good and the confusion of the evil. It was no pilgrim band, 
these gold-seeking emigrants, fleeing from persecution ; it was 
not an expedition for dominion or territory ; nor was it a mis- 
sionary enterprise, nor a theoretical republic. It was a stam- 
pede of the nations, a hurried gathering in a magnificent 
wilderness for purposes of immediate gain by mining for gold, 
and was unprecedented in the annals of the race. Knowing 
all this as we now do; knowing the metal these men were 



24 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

made of, the calibre of their minds, the fiery furnace of ex- 
perience through which they passed; knowing what they 
are, what they have done, v/hat they are doing, is it not 
idle to ask if men like these, or the sons of such men, can 
achieve literature ? They can do anything. They halt not 
at any obstacle surmountable by man. They pause discom- 
fited only upon the threshold of the unknowable and the 
impossible. The literary atmosphere of which we speak is 
not here to-day ; but hither the winds from the remotest 
comers of the earth are wafting it; all knowledge and all 
human activities are placed under contribution, and out of 
this alembic will in due time be distilled the fine gold of 
Letters. 



CHAPTER III. 

SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 

On fait presque toujours les grandes choses sans savoir comment on 
les fait, et on est tout surpris qu'on les a faites. Demandez a Cesar 
comment il se rendit le maitre du monde ; peut-etre ne vous repondra-t-il 

pas aisement. — Fontenelle, 

SERMONIZE as we may on fields and atmospheres, internal 
agencies * and environment, at the end of life we know 
little more of the influences that moulded us than at the 
beginning. Without rudder or compass our bark is sent 
forth on the stormy sea, and although we fancy we know 
our present haven, the trackless path by which we came 
hither we cannot retrace. The record of a life written — 
what is it ? Between the lines are characters invisible which 
might tell us something could we translate them. They 
might tell us something of those ancient riddles, origin 
and destiny, free-will and necessity, discussed under various 
namics by learned men through the centuries, and all without 
having penetrated one hair's-breadth into the mystery, all 
without having gained any knowledge of the subject not 
possessed by man primeval. In this mighty and universal 
straining to fathom the unknowable, Plato, the philosophic 
Greek, seems to succeed no better than Moncacht Ape, the 
philosophic savage. 

Thus much progress, however, has been made : there are 
men now living who admit that they know nothing about 
such matters ; that after a lifetime of study and meditation 
the eyes of the brightest intellect can see beyond the sky no 
farther than those of the most unlearned dolt. And they are 
the strongest who acknowledge their weakness in this regard ; 



26 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

they are the wisest who confess their ignorance. Even the 
ancients understood this, though by the mouth of Terentius 
they put the proposition a Httle differently : " Faciunt nse in- 
telhgendo, ut nihil intelHgant"; by too much knowledge 
men bring it about that they know nothing. Confining our 
investigations to the walks of Hterature, surely one would 
think genius might tell something of itself, something of its 
inceptions and inspirations. But what says genius ? " They 
ask me," complains Goethe of the critics who sought in vain 
the moral design of his play, " what idea I wished to incor- 
porate with my Faust, Can I know it ? Or, if I know, can 
I put it into words ? " 

Why we are what we are, and not some other person or 
thing; w^hy we do as we do, turning hither instead of thither, 
are problems which will be solved only with the great and 
universal exposition. And yet there is little that seems 
strange to us in our movements. Things appear wonderful 
as they are unfamiliar; in the unknown and unfathomed we 
think we see God ; but is anything known or fathomed ? 
Who shall measure mind, we say, or paint the soul, or rend 
the veil that separates eternity and time ? Yet, do we but 
think of it, everything relating to mankind and the universe 
is strange, the spring that moves the mind of man not more 
than the mechanism on which it presses. " How wonderful is 
death ! " says Shelley; but surely not more wonderful than life 
or intellect which brings us consciousness. We see the youth's 
stark body carried to the grave, and wonder at the absence 
of that life so lately animating it, and question what it is, 
whence it came, and whither it has flown. We call to mind 
whatever there may have been in his nature of promise or of 
singular excellence ; but the common actions of the youth, 
the while he lived, we deem accountable, and pass them by 
because of our familiarity with similar acts in others. We 
see nations rise and die, worlds form and crumble, and won- 
der at the universe unfolding, but the minutiae of evolution, 
the proximate Uttle things that day by day go to make up the 
great ones, we think we understand, and we wonder at them 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 27 

not at all. It was regarded an easy matter a century ago 
to define a mineral, plant, or animal, but he is a bold man 
indeed who attempts to-day to tell what these things are. 

Therefore, in answer to that part of Mr. Nordhoif 's won- 
derings why I left business and embarked in literature, I say 
I cannot tell. Ask the mother why she so lovingly nurses her 
little one, watching with tender soHcitude its growth to youth 
and manhood, only to send it forth weaned, perhaps indiffer- 
ent or ungrateful, to accomplish its destiny. Literature is 
my love, a love sprung from my brain, no less my child than 
the offspring of my body. In its conception and birth is 
present the parental instinct, in its cultivation and develop- 
ment the parental care, in its results the parental anxiety. 
There are those, says Hamerton, " who are urged toward 
the intellectual Hfe by irresistible instincts, as water-fowl are 
urged to an aquatic life. ... If a man has got high mental 
culture during his passage through life, it is of little consequence 
where he acquired it, or how. The school of the intellectual 
man is the place where he happens to be, and his teachers 
are the people, books, animals, plants, stones, and earth 
round about him." 

From a family sketch written by Curtis Howe in 1857 I 
quote as follows : " My grandfather, John Howe, was born 
in London in the year 1650, and remained there through his 
juvenile years. Nothing is known of his parents, and very 
little of him, only that some time after he became a man he 
came to this country with a brother whose name is not 
known. He purchased a farm in New Haven, Connecticut, 
acquired a handsome property, and married at the age of 
sixty a girl of nineteen. My father, Ephraim Howe, was their 
youngest, born in April, 1730, his father being at that time 
eighty years old. December 2, 1756, my father married 
Damaris Seaward, he being twenty-seven and she seventeen. 
According to the family record I was born May 10, 1772; 
I remained very small and grew but little until I arrived 
at my teens, and reaching my full size, I suppose, only when 
nearly twenty-one." 



28 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

My grandfather's children to the third and fourth genera- 
tions became scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and 
as he advanced in years there was a growing desire in him to 
see them all and leave with them his blessing ere he died. 
Many of them he did see, making long journeys in his wagon 
rather than trust himself to a railway. Strange caution this, 
it always seemed to me. The good patriarch could trust his 
God implicitly in most matters ; indeed he was confident of 
his protection everywhere except on steam-cars and steam- 
boats. He could go to him in trouble, he could leave his 
cares with him, knowing that whatever was meted out to him 
was right and best; but he was a little doubtful about the 
new method of travelling^ and he preferred the old fashion 
with horses and wagons, such as had brought him and his 
household safely from St. Albans to Granville and such as he 
had ever since employed. The spirit of steam had not yet 
fallen on him. Nevertheless, so great was the desire to see 
his children in California, that he finally summoned courage 
or faith sufficient to brave both railway and steamship, 
making the fatiguing, and for him dangerous, passage by the 
Isthmus at the advanced age of ninety-four. 

From family records I have ascertained that a grandmother 
of my father and a grandmother of my mother were born in 
the same town the same year; both died the same year at the 
advanced age of ninety-six. My grandfathers Bancroft and 
Howe were both born in Granville, Massachusetts; the 
former died in Ohio, the latter in Kansas. 

Both my parents were bom in the year 1799. My native 
place was Granville, Ohio, and the day the fifth of May, 1832, 
just two centuries after the arrival of my ancestor John in 
America. The town of Granville was settled by a colony 
from New England, and took its name from Granville, Mas- 
sachusetts, whence many of its settlers came. It was in 1805 
that a company was formed to emigrate to what was then the 
far west, and two of the number went to search the wilder- 
ness for a suitable location. They selected a heavily timbered 
township in Ohio, in the county of Licking, so called from 



I 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 29 

the deer-licks found there. The year following the colony 
was organized, not as a joint- stock company, but as a congre- 
gational church. At starting a sermon was preached from 
the text : " If thy presence go not with me, carry us not up 
hence." Then, after baking much bread, a portion of which 
was dried to rusk and coarsely ground at the flouring mill, 
the cattle were hitched to the wagons, and driving their cows 
before them they moved off in the direction of the star of 
empire. It was quite a different thing, this New England 
colony, from an ordinary western settlement. Though emi- 
nently practical, it partook rather of the subjective and rational 
element than of the objective and material. Though unlike 
their forefathers fleeing from persecution — only for more and 
better land than they could find at home would they go — 
they nevertheless, with their households, transplanted their 
opinions and their traditions, without abating one jot or tittle 
of either. With their ox teams and horse teams, with all their 
belongings in covered wagons, these colonists came, bearing 
in their bosoms their love of God, their courageous faith, 
their stern morality, their delight in sacrifice ; talking of these 
things by the way, camping by the road-side at night, resting 
on the Sabbath when all the religious ordinances of the day 
were strictly observed, consuming in the journey as many 
days as it now occupies half-hours, and all with thanksgiving, 
prayer, and praise. 

On reaching their destination our New England emigrants 
camped on a picturesque bench, the rolling forested hills on 
one side, and on the other a strip of timbered bottom, through 
which flowed a clear, quiet stream. Arranging their wagons 
in the way best suited for convenience and defence, they 
felled a few of the large maple and other trees and began to 
prepare material for building. Then came the warm Sabbath 
morning, when no sound of the axe was heard, but instead 
the voice of prayer, never more to be new or strange among 
these consecrated hills. Houses were quickly erected, and 
a church, Timothy Harris being the first pastor. Schools 
quickly followed ; and all thus far being from one place, and 



30 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of one faith, and one morality, no time was lost in sage dis- 
cussions, so that Granville grew in solid comforts and intel- 
ligence, outstripping the neighboring communities, and ere 
long sending forth hundreds of young men and women to 
educate others. 

The Phelps family was among the earhest to leave Vermont 
for the Ohio Granville, thus established by the Massachusetts 
men. Then came the Bancrofts from Pennsylvania and the 
Howe family from Vermont. Among the first acts of the 
colonists was to mark out a village and divide the surrounding 
lands into hundred-acre farms. Now it so happened that the 
farms of Azariah Bancroft and Curtis Howe adjoined. Both 
of these settlers were blessed with numerous children; my 
father was one of eleven, four boys and five girls reaching 
maturity. It was not the custom in that slow age for parents 
to shirk their responsibility. Luxury, pleasure, ease, had not 
yet usurped the place of children in the mother's breast ; and 
as for strength to bear them, it was deemed disgraceful in a 
woman to be weak who could not show just cause for her 
infirmity. As I have said before, work was the order of the 
day — w^ork, by which means alone men can be men, or 
women women ; by which means alone there can be culture, 
development, or a human species fit to live on this earth. 
Men and women, and boys and girls, all worked in those 
days, worked physically, mentally, and morally, and so 
strengthened hand, and head, and heart. Thus working in 
the kitchen, field, and barn-yard, making hay and milking 
cows, reaping, threshing, spinning, weaving, Ashley Bancroft 
and Lucy Howe grew up, the one a lusty, sinewy, dark-eyed 
youth, the other a bright, merry maiden, with golden hair, 
and the sweetest smile a girl ever had, and the softest, purest 
eyes that ever let sunlight into a soul. And in due time they 
were married, and had a hundred-acre farm of their own; had 
cattle, and barn, and farm implements, and a substantial two- 
story stone house, with a bright tin roof; and soon there were 
six children in it, of whom I was the fourth. And all these 
comforts were paid for, all save the children, for which debt 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 3 1 

the parents ceased not to make acknowledgments to Al- 
mighty God morning and evening to the end. 

On the 2 1 St of February, 1872, at my house in San Fran- 
cisco, my parents celebrated their golden wedding, probably 
the most joyous event of their long and happy lives. Two 
of my father's brothers have likewise celebrated their golden 
weddings, one before this date and one afterward. While I 
am now writing, my father at the age of eighty-five is talking 
with my children, Paul, Griffing, Philip, and Lucy, aged six, 
four, two, and one, respectively, telling them of things hap- 
pening when he was a boy, which, were it possible for them 
to remember and tell at the age of eighty-five to their grand- 
children, would be indeed a collating of the family book of 
life almost in century-pages.' 

Thus it happened that I was born in an atmosphere of 
invigorating puritanism, such as falls to the lot of few in these 
days of material progress and transcendental speculation. 
This atmosphere, however, was not without its fogs. Planted 
in this western New England oasis, side by side with the 
piety and principles of the old Plymouth colony, and indeed 
one with them, were all the antis and isms that ever con- 
founded Satan — Calvinism, Lutheranism, Knoxism, and Huss- 
ism, pure and unadulterated ; abolitionism, once accounted a 
disgrace, later the nation's proudest honor : anti-rum, anti- 
tobacco, anti tea and coffee, anti sugar and cotton if the en- 
slaved black man grew them, and anti-sensualism of every 
kind, opposition even to comforts if they bordered on luxury. 
Multitudinous meetings and reforms were going on, whether 
wise or unwise, whether there was anything to meet for or to 
reform, or not. As my mother used to say, '' to be good and 
to do good should constitute the aim and end of every life." 
Children particularly should be reformed, and that right 
early ; and so Saturday night was " kept," preparatory to the 
Sabbath, on which day three meetings were always held, 
besides a Sunday-school and a prayer-meeting, the intervals 
being filled with Saturday-cooked repasts, catechism, and 
Sunday readings. 



32 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Preparations were made for the Sabbath as for a solemn 
festival. The garden was put in order, and the sheep and 
kine were driven to their quiet quarters. The house was 
scrubbed, and in the winter fuel prepared the day before. 
All picture-books and scraps of secular reading which might 
catch the eye and offend the imagination were thrust into a 
closet, and on the table in their stead were placed the Bible, 
Memoirs of Fayso?t, and Baxter's Saints^ Rest, The morn- 
ing of the holy day crept silently in ; even nature seemed 
subdued. The birds sang softer ; the inmates of the farm- 
yard put on their best behavior ; only the sun dared show 
himself in his accustomed character. Prayers and breakfast 
over, cleanly frocked, through still streets and past closed 
doors each member of the household walked with downcast 
eyes to church. 

Often have I heard latter-day progressive fathers say: 
" For myself, I care not for dogmas and creeds, but something 
of the kind is necessary for women and children ; society 
else would fall in pieces." Without subscribing to such a 
sentiment, I may safely say that from my heart I thank God 
for strict religious training; and I thank him most of all for 
emancipation from it. It is good to be born in a hotbed of 
sectarianism ; it is better, at some later time, to escape it. 

Excess of any kind is sure, sooner or later, to defeat its 
own ends. Take for instance, the meetings inflicted on the 
society into which destiny had projected me. There were 
pulpit meetings, conference meetings, missionary meetings, 
temperance meetings, mothers' meetings, young men's meet- 
ings, Sunday-school meetings, inquiry meetings, moral-reform 
meetings, ministers' meetings, sunrise and sunset meetings, 
anti-slavery meetings — these for the ordinary ministrations, 
with extra impromptu meetings on special occasions, and all 
intermingled with frequent and fervid revivals. The conse- 
quence was that the young men of Granville were noted in 
all that region for their wickedness. Home influence and the 
quiet but effectual teachings of example were overshadowed 
by pubhc exhortations to piety. The tender plant was so 






SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 33 

watered, and digged about, and fertilized, that natural and 
healthy growth was impeded. A distaste for theological dis- 
course was early formed, arising, not from a distaste for relig- 
ion, nor from special inherent badness, but from the endless 
unwholesome restraints thrown upon youthful unfoldings, 
which led in many instances to the saddest results. 

It is not to be wondered at that, after such an excess of 
piety and exalted contemplation, to the young elastic mind an 
interview with the devil was most refreshing ; and as these 
boys were taught that in tobacco, small-beer, and the painted 
cards that players used, he lurked, there the pious urchins 
sought him. Clubs were formed and meetings held for the 
purpose of acquiring proficiency in these accomplishments. 
Often after leaving our "inquiry" meeting — that is to say, a 
place where young folks met ostensibly for the purpose of 
inquiring what they should do to be saved — have I gone 
home and to bed; then later, up and dressed, in company 
with my comrades I would resort to a cellar, garret, or bam, 
with tallow candle, cent cigars, and a pack of well-worn, greasy 
playing-cards, and there hold sweet communion with infernal 
powers ; in consequence of which enthusiasm one bam was 
burned and several others na^rrowly escaped burning. Strange 
to say, later in life, as soon as I learned how playing-cards 
were made, and that no satanic influences were employed in 
their construction or use, they ceased to have any fascination 
for me. 

Nevertheless, I say it is better to be righteous overmuch 
than to be incorrigibly wicked. And so the puritans of 
Granville thought as they enlarged their meeting-houses, and 
erected huge seminaries of learning, and called upon the 
benighted from all parts to come in and be told the truth. 
Likewise they comforted the colored race. 

The most brilliant exploit of my life was performed at the 
tender age of eleven, when I spent a whole night in driving 
a two-horse wagon load of runaway slaves on their way from 
Kentucky and slavery to Canada and freedom — an exploit 
which was regarded in those days by that community with 
3 



34 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

little less approbation than that bestowed by a fond Apache 
mother upon the son who brandishes before her his first scalp. 
The ebony cargo consisted of three men and two women, 
who had been brought into town the night before by some 
teamster of kindred mind to my father's, and kept snugly 
stowed away from prying eyes during the day. About nine 
o'clock at night the large lumber-box wagon filled with straw 
was brought out, and the black dissenters from the American 
constitution, who so lightly esteemed our glorious land of 
freedom, were packed under the straw, and some blankets 
and sacks thrown carelessly over them, so that outwardly 
there might be no significance of the dark and hidden mean- 
ing of the load. My careful mother bundled me in coats and 
scarfs, to keep me from freezing, and with a round of good- 
bys, given not without some apprehensions for my safety, and 
with minute instructions, repeated many times lest I should 
forget them, I climbed to my seat, took the reins, and drove 
slowly out of town. Once or twice I was hailed by some 
curious passer-by with, " What have you got there ? " to which 
I made answer as in such case had been provided. This was 
the first time in my life I had ever attempted to keep my eyes 
open all night, and more than once, as my horses jogged 
along, I was brought to my senses by a jolt, and without any 
definite idea of the character of the road for some distance 
back. My freight behaved very well ; once fairly out in the 
country, and into the night, the negroes straightened up, 
grinned, and appeared to enjoy the performance hugely. 
During the night they would frequently get out and walk, 
always taking care to keep carefully covered in passing 
through a town. About three o'clock in the morning I 
entered a village and drove up to the house whither I had 
been directed, roused the inmates, and transferred to them 
my load. Then I drove back, sleepy but happy. 

Once my father's barn was selected as the most available 
place for holding a grand abolition meeting, the first anni- 
versary of the Ohio State Anti-Slavery Society. Rotten eggs 
flew about the heads of the speakers, but they suffered no 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 35 

serious inconvenience from them mitil after the meeting was 
over and they had begun their homeward journey. Beyond 
the precincts of the village they were met by a mob, and 
although spurring their horses they did not escape until the 
foul flood had drenched them. Those were happy days, 
when there was something to suffer for ; now that the slavery 
monster is dead, and the slayers have well-nigh spent their 
strength kicking the carcass, there is no help for reformers 
but to run off into woman's rights, free-love, and a new 
string of petty isms which should put them to the blush after 
their doughty deeds. 

I cannot say that my childhood was particularly happy; 
or, if it was, its sorrows are deeper graven on my memory 
than its joys. The fault, if fate be fault, v/as not my parents', 
who were always most kind to me. Excessive sensitive- 
ness has ever been my curse; since my earliest recollec- 
tions I have suffered from this defect more than I can tell, 
and my peace of mind has ever been in hands other than 
my own. 

My boyhood was spent in working during the summer, 
and in winter attending school, where I progressed so far as 
to obtain a smattering of Latin and Greek, and some insight 
into the higher mathematics. No sooner had my father 
placed in a forward state of cultivation his hundred acres, 
and built him a large and comfortable stone house — which 
he did with his own hands, quarrying the blocks from a hill 
near by — and cleared the place from debt, than, seized by 
the spirit of unrest, he sold his pleasant home and moved his 
family to the ague swamps of New Madrid, Missouri, where 
rich land, next to nothing in price, with little cultivation 
would yield enormous returns, worth next to nothing when 
harvested, through lack of any market. 

After three years of ague and earthquake agitations in that 
land of opossums and persimmons, fearing lest the very flesh 
would be shaken from our bones, we all packed ourselves 
back, and began once more where we left off, but minus the 
comfortable stone house and farm. 



36 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Lovely little Granville ! dear, quiet home-nook ; lovely in 
thy summer smiles and winter frowns ; lovely, decked in danc- 
ing light and dew pearls, or in night's star-studded robe of 
sleep. Under the soft sky of summer we ploughed and 
planted, made hay, and harvested the grain. Winter was the 
time for study, while nature, wrapped in her cold covering, 
lay at rest. Fun and froHc were also abroad on those soft 
silvery nights, when the moon played between the brilliant 
sky and glistening snow, and the crisp air carried far over the 
hills the sound of bells and merry laughter. Then winter 
warms into spring, that sun-spirit which chases away the snow, 
and sv/ells the buds, and fills the air with the melody of birds, 
and scatters fragrance over the breathing earth; and spring 
melts into summer, and summer sighs her autumn exit — 
autumn, loved by many as the sweetest, saddest time of the 
year, when the husbandman, after laying up his winter store, 
considers for a moment his past and future, when the squirrel 
heaps its nest with nuts, and the cries of birds of passage in 
long angular processions are heard high in air, and the half- 
. denuded forest is tinged with the hectic flush of dying foliage. 

I well remember, on returning from my absence, with 
what envy and dislike I regarded as interlopers those who 
then occupied my childhood home ; and, child as I was, the 
earliest and most determined ambition of my Hfe was to work 
and earn the money to buy back the old stone house. Ah 
God ! how with swelling heart, and flushed cheek, and brain 
on fire, I have later tramped again that ground, the ground 
my boyhood trod ; how I have skirted it about, and wan- 
dered through its woods, and nestled in its hedges, listening 
to the rustling leaves and still forest murmurings that seemed 
to tell me of the past ; uncovering my head to the proud 
old elms that nodded to me as I passed, and gazing at the 
wild-flowers that looked up into my face and smiled as I 
trod them, even as time had trodden my young heart ; whis- 
pering to the birds that stared strangely at me and would 
not talk to me — none save the bickering blackbird, and the 
distant turtle-dove to whose mournful tone my breast was 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 37 

tuned; watching in the Httle stream the minnows that I 
used to fancy waited for me to come and feed them ; loit- 
ering under the golden-sweet apple-tree where I used to loll 
my study hours away ; eying the ill-looking beasts that oc- 
cupied the places of my pets, while at every step some famil- 
iar object would send a thousand sad memories tugging at 
my heartstrings, and call up scenes happening a few years 
back but acted seemingly ages ago, until I felt myself as old 
as Abraham. There was the orchard, celestial white and 
fragrant in its blossoms, whose every tree I could tell, and 
the fruit that grew on it ; the meadow, through whose brist- 
ling stubble my naked feet had picked their way when carry- 
ing water to the haymakers and fighting bumblebees; the 
cornfield, where I had ridden the horse to plough ; the barn- 
yard, where from the backs of untrained colts I had en- 
countered so many falls; the hillock, down which I had 
been tumbled by my pet lamb, afterward sacrificed and 
eaten for its sins — eaten unadvisedly by the youthful feast- 
ers, lest the morsels should choke them. There was the 
garden I had been made to weed, the well at which I had 
so often drunk, the barn where I used to search for eggs, 
turn somersets, and make such fearful leaps upon the hay ; 
there were the sheds, and yards, and porches ; every fence, 
and shrub, and stone stood there, the cause of a thousand 
heart-throbs. 

From the grassy field where stood conspicuous the stone- 
quarry, how often have I driven the cows along the base 
of the wooded hill separating my father's farm from the vil- 
lage, to the distant pasture where the long blue-eyed grass 
was mixed with clover, and sprinkled with buttercups, and 
dotted with solitary elms on whose limbs the crows and 
blackbirds quarrelled for a place. And under the beech- 
trees beneath the hill where wound my path, as my bare 
feet trudged along, how bopsh fancies played through my 
brain while I was all unconscious of the great world beyond 
my homely horizon. On the bended bough of that old oak, 
planted long before I was born, and which these many years 



38 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

has furnished the winter's store and storehouse to the thrifty 
woodpecker, there sits the robin where sat his father, and 
his father's father, singing the self-same song his grandfather 
sang when he wooed his mate, singing the self-same song 
his sons and his sons' sons shall sing. 

Sweet were those days, clouded perhaps a little with boy- 
ish melancholy, and now brought to my remembrance by 
the play of sunshine and shadow in and round famihar 
nooks, by the leafy woodbine under the garden wall, by 
the sparkling dewy grass-blades and the odor of the breath- 
ing woods, by the crab-appletree hedge, covered with grape- 
vines, and bordered with blackberry bushes, and inclosing 
the several fields, each shedding its own peculiar fragrance ; 
by the row of poplars lining the road in front of the house, 
by the willows drinking at the brook, the buckeyes on the 
hill, and the chestnut, hickory, butternut, and walnut trees, 
whose fruit I gathered every autumn, storing it in the garret, 
and cracking it on Sundays after sunset, as a reward for 
"keeping" Saturday night. 

There is something delicious in the air, though the ground 
be wet and the sky murky ; it is the air in which I first cried 
and laughed. There, upon the abruptly sloping brow of the 
hill yonder, is where I buried myself beneath a load of wood, 
overturned from a large two-horse sled into the snow. And 
in that strip of thicket to the right I used to hide from thun- 
der-showers on my way from school. Behind that stone wall 
many a time have I crept up and frightened chanticleer in 
the midst of his crow, raising his wrath by breaking his tune, 
and thereby instigating him to thrice as loud and thrice as 
long a note the moment my back was turned. Near by was 
the grove of sugar-maple, to me a vast and trackless forest 
infested with huge reptiles and ravenous beasts, when there 
I slept all night by the camp-fire boiling the unsubstan- 
tial sap to sweeter consistency. Away across a four- acre 
lot still stands the little old bridge wherefrom I fished for 
minnows in the brook it spans, with pork-baited pins for 
hooks. 



SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS. 39 

There is something painfully sweet in such memories. 
How sorrows the heart over its lost friendships; how the 
breath of other days whispers of happiness never realized; 
how the sorrowful past plays its exquisite strains upon the 
heartstrings ! Things long gone by, deemed httle then and 
joyless, are magnified by the mists of time and distance into 
a mirage of pleasurable remembrances. How an old song 
sometimes stirs the whole reservoir of regrets, and makes the 
present well-nigh unbearable ! Out of my most miserable past 
I draw the deepest pain pleasures, beside which present joys 
are insipid. There is no sadder sound to the questioner's 
ear than the church bell which sometime called him to 
believing prayer. At once it brings to mind a thousand holy 
aspirations, and rings the death-knell of an eternity of joy. 

Like tiny tongues of pure flame darting upward amidst the 
mountain of somber smoke, there are many bright memories 
even among the most melancholy reveries. The unhappiest 
life contains many happy hours, just as the most nauseating 
medicine is made up of divers sweet ingredients. Even there, 
golden run life's golden sands, for into the humble home 
ambition brings as yet no curse. 

But alas ! the glowing charm thrown over all by the half- 
heavenly conceptions of childhood shall never be revived. 
Every harvesting now brings but a new crop of withered 
pleasures, which with the damask freshness of youth are flung 
into the storehouse of desolation. 

Never is there a home like the home of our youth; never 
such sunshine as that which makes shadows for us to play 
in, never such air as that which swells our youthful breasts 
and gives our happy minds free expression, never such water 
as the laughing, dancing streamlet in which we wade through 
silvery bubblings over glittering pebbles, never such music 
as the robin's roundelay and the swallov/'s twittering that wake 
us in the morning, the tinkling of the cow bells, the rustling 
of the vines over the window, the chirrup of the cricket, and 
the striking of the old house clock that tells us our task is 
done. The home of our childhood, once abandoned, is for- 



40 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ever lost. It may have been a hut, standing on the rudest 
patch of ground the earth affords, yet so wrapped round the 
heart is it, so charged with youthful imagery is every stick 
and stone of it, that the gilded castle built in after life, with 
all the rare and costly furnishings that art and ingenuity can 
afford, is but an empty barn beside it ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 

No man is born into the world whose work is not born with him ; 
there is always work and tools to work withal, for those who will. 

— Lowell, 

CROSSING a muddy street one rainy day on her way to 
school, my eldest sister, dark-eyed and tender of heart, 
encountered a sandy-haired but by no means ill-looking youth 
who made way for her by stepping back fromx the plank which 
served pedestrians. The young man was a member of the 
Derby family of booksellers, afterward noted for their large 
estabhshments in various cities. Of course these two young 
persons, thus thrown together on this muddy crossing, fell in 
love ; how else could it be ? and in due time were married, 
vowing thenceforth to cross all muddy streets in company, 
and not from opposite directions. And in this rain, and 
mud, and marriage, I find another of the causes that led me 
to embark in literature. The marriage took place in 1845, 
when I was thirteen years of age, and the happy couple made 
their home in Geneva, New York, where Mr. Derby was then 
doing business. Subsequently he removed his bookstore and 
family to Buffalo. 

On our return from the land of milk and honey, as we .at 
first soberly and afterward ironically called our southern 
prairie home, my father entered into copartnership with one 
Wright, a tanner and farmer. The tasks then imposed upon 
me were little calculated to give content or yield profit. 
Mingled with my school and Sunday duties, interspersed with 
occasional holidays for shooting, fishing, swimming, skating, 
sleighing, and nut and berry gathering, was work, such as 



42 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

grinding bark, sawing wood, chopping, clearing, fencing, 
milling, teaming, ploughing, planting, harvesting, and the 
like, wherein I could take but little interest and make no 
progress, and which consequently I most heartily hated. 

To my great delight, a year or two after the marriage of 
my sister, I was offered the choice of preparing for college or 
of entering the Buffalo bookstore. The doctrine was just 
then coming into vogue that in the choice of a profession or 
occupation youthful proclivities should be directed, but the 
youth should not be coerced. This, within the bounds of 
reason, is assuredly the correct idea. 

This marriage of my sister's changed the course not only 
of my own destiny but of that of every member of my family. 
It was the hinge on which the gate swung to open a new 
career to all of us. Puritan Granville was a good place to be 
reared in, but it was a better place to emigrate from. It was 
in the world but not of the world. Success there would mean 
a hundred acres of land, a stone house, six children, an interest 
in a town store or a grist-mill, and a deaconship in the church. 

But how should I decide the question before me ? What 
had I upon which to base a decision ? Nothing but my feel- 
ings, my passions, and propensities — unsafe guides enough 
when coupled with experience, but absolutely dangerous when 
left to shift for themselves. Study had always strong fasci- 
nations for me, and the thought of sometime becoming a great 
lawyer or statesman set heart and head in a whirl. I cannot 
remember the time when I could not read, recite the cate- 
chism, and ride and drive a horse. I am told that I was quick 
to learn when young, and that at the age of three I could 
read the New Testament without having to spell out many 
of the words. If that be true the talent must have ended with 
my childhood, for later on taking up study I found it almost 
impossible to learn, and still more difficult to remember, what- 
ever talent I may have possessed in that direction having 
been driven out of me in the tread-mill of business. 

One winter I was sent to the brick school-house, a rusty red 
monument of rusty red efforts, long since torn down. There 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 43 

presided over the boys at one time my mother's brother. The 
Howes engaged in school-teaching naturally, they and their 
children, boys and girls, without asking themselves why. The 
family have taught from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in New 
York, Ohio, Iowa, Nevada, Oregon, and California. They 
were good teachers, but they were good for little else. The 
one who taught in Granville had written a grammar, and all 
the boys were compelled to study it. It consisted chiefly of 
rules which could not be understood, and contained little of the 
kind of examples which remained fastened in the mind to be 
afterward of practical value. It is safe to say that children 
now learn twice as much with half the trouble. Then the 
study of grammar under a grammar-making uncle did me 
little good. 

Those Howe grammar lessons were the curse of that winter. 
Often I wept over the useless and distasteful drudgery, but 
in vain. Tears were a small argument with my parents 
where they deemed duty to be concerned;- and the brother 
made my mother believe that if I failed in one jot or tittle of 
his grammar there would be no hope for me afterward in any 
direction. Mathematics I enjoyed. Stretched on the hearth 
before a blazing fire, with book and slate, I worked out my 
problems during the long evenings, and then took the Howe 
grammar lesson as I would castor-oil. 

My studies were mixed with house and bam duties, such 
as paring apples, pounding rusk, feeding and milking the 
cows, and scores of like occupations. Long before daylight 
I would be called from my slumber to work and study, a 
summons I usually responded to with alacrity. Then my 
mother called me good, and my home life was happy. Soon 
after breakfast, with books, and tin pail well stored with 
luncheon, I was out into the sharp morning air and over the 
hill to school. But still the Howe grammar hung over all 
my joys like a grim shadow, darkening all delights. For, in 
that I did not love the grammar, the Howe did not love me, 
and he made the place exceedingly uncomfortable, until 
finally my mother became satisfied that I was injudiciously 



44 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and unfairly treated, and to my great joy took me from this 
purgatory. 

I was passionately fond of music, not so much of listening 
as performing. The intensest aspirations of my life seem to 
have taken this form; I longed to do rather than to enjoy. 
Purposeless pleasure was not pleasant to me. To-day I find 
neither satisfaction nor profit in reading or writing, or doing 
anything for my own personal enjoyment. There must be 
an aim, and a high, immediate, and direct one, if in my 
doing or being I am to find satisfaction. 

In the matter of music, there was within me something 
which sighed for expression, and to throw it off in song or 
through the melodies of an instrument was the simplest 
method of relief. This restless desire to unburden my heart 
was present in my earliest consciousness. It was always in 
some way stifled in my younger days. There were schools 
which I could and did attend, but singing in concert with a 
class of boys and girls was not what I wanted. By saving 
up dimes and half-dollars I succeeded in buying an old 
violin. I paid four dollars for it; and I remember with 
what trepidation I invested my entire capital in the instru- 
ment. For several years I scraped persistently and learned 
to play badly a few tunes. I had no teacher and no encour- 
agement; I was laughed at and frowned at, until finally I 
abandoned it. Fiddling in that staid society was almost as 
much a sin as card-playing ; for if cards were for gamblers, 
fiddles were for dancers, and both were a pastime invented 
by Satan, Christ never danced ; and although David did, 
our minister used to apologize for him by saying that his was 
a slow, measured, kingly step, something of a Shaker dance — 
at all events nothing like the whirling embracements of these 
later times. 

To return to the matter of choosing between study and 
business. Finding myself possessed of these and many other 
burning aspirations, without stopping to count the cost, child- 
like I struck at once for the prize. If self-devotion and hard 
study could win, it should be mine. So I chose the life of a 



I 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 45 

Student, and spent another year in preparing for college. 
There was an academy as well as a college in the place ; 
indeed, as I have before remarked, my native town was, in 
its way, quite a seat of learning. 

It was now the winter of 1847-8, and bravely I set about 
my self-imposed task, studying hard, and for a time making 
fair progress. I was still obliged to work morning and even- 
ing, and, with now and then a holiday, during the vacations. 
I was much alone in my studies, although I listened to my 
teacher as earnestly as if I had been under competitive 
influence. My nearest and indeed almost the only com- 
panion I had at this time was my cousin Edgar Hillyer, 
afterward United States judge for Nevada. In age he was a 
year my senior, but in ability and accomplishments many 
years. He was a good student, apt in debate, well read in 
classical literature, nimble on the violin, a rollicking, jolly 
companion, muscular, active, and courageous, and could 
hold his own with the best of them on the play-ground. 
When violin-playing became fashionable in churches he 
sawed away at a base-viol behind the church choir, read- 
ing a novel under cover of his huge instrument during the 
sermon. He was given a little to sarcasm at times, which 
cut me somewhat ; otherwise we were true and stanch friends. 
He it was who aided and influenced me more than any other 
in many things. In advance of me in studies, he entered 
college and I was left alone. Still I toiled on, notwithstand- 
ing occasional letters from Buflalo which tended to unsettle 
my plans. Before the time for entering college arrived I 
had lost something of my interest in study: without the 
stimulus of sympathizing friends and competition, the unfed 
fire of my ambition died away. 

Meanwhile Mr. Derby, who was an enthusiast in his busi- 
ness, had made occasional visits to my father's house, and 
in listening to his conversation I became attracted toward 
Buflalo. There was, moreover, in me a growing desire for 
independence ; not that I was dissatisfied with my home so 



46 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

much as with myself. I longed to be doing something that 
would show results; I wanted to be a man, to be a great 
man, to be a man at once. The road to learning was slow 
and hard; besides, my father was not rich, and although 
ready to deny himself anything for me, I could see that to 
continue my plan of study would be a heavy tax on him. 
Yet I loved it, and, as the sequel will show, left it here only 
to take it up at a future time. Now I wanted money, I felt 
the need of money, and I determined to have money. Not 
to hug and hoard, not to love and cherish as a thing admira- 
ble in itself, not as a master to bid me fetch and carry all my 
days, nor as a god to fall before and worship, sealing the heart 
from human sympathy, but as a servant to do my bidding, as 
an Aladdin lamp to buy me independence, leisure, culture. 

Thus unsettled in my mind by the allurements of active 
business and city life, my attention distracted from studies, 
discontented in the thought of plodding a poverty-stricken 
path to fame, and unwilling to burden my father for a term 
of years, I asked and obtained leave to enter the shop ; selling 
books, for the nonce, offering stronger attractions than study- 
ing them. Nor am I now disposed to regret my final decis- 
ion. Commercial and industrial training offers advantages 
in the formation of mind, as well as scientific and literary 
training. School is but a mental gymnasium. Little is there 
learned except the learning how to learn; and the system 
that aims at this gymnastic exercise of mind, rather than 
cramming, is the best. He who studies most does not always 
learn most, nor is he who reads most always the best read. 
Understanding, and not cramming, is education. Learn how 
to form opinions of your own rather than fill your head with 
the opinions of others. 

About the ist of August, 1848, I left Granville for Buffalo, 
where I arrived on the 9th. I was now sixteen years of age, 
and this may be regarded as my starting out in Hfe. Then 
I left my father's house, and ever since have I been my own 
master, and made my own way in the world. There was no 



i 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 47 

railway from my native town, and my journey was made in 
a canal-boat as far as Cleveland, and thence by steamboat 
over Lake Erie to Buffalo. The captain of the canal-boat 
was a brother of my Uncle Hillyer, and permission was 
given me to ride on the towpath in lieu of paying fare. I 
gladly availed myself of the opportunity, and took my turn 
night and day during the whole journey. The day after my 
arrival in Buffalo I was permitted a view of the bookseller's 
shop. It would not be regarded as much of a store nowa- 
days, but it was the largest establishment I had ever seen, 
and the, to me, huge piles of literature, the endless ranges of 
book-shelves, the hurrying clerks, the austere accountants, 
the lord paramount proprietor, all filled me with awe not un- 
accompanied by heart-sinkings. A day or so was spent in 
looking about the city, accompanying my sister to the market, 
and attending a great political convention which was then in 
full blast. On the Monday following my arrival I was put 
to work in the bindery over the counting-room, and initiated 
into the mysteries of the book business by folding and stitch- 
ing reports of the aforesaid convention. There I was kept, 
living with my sister, and undergoing in the shop a vast 
amount of unpalatable though doubtless very necessary train- 
ing, till the following October, when the bindery was sold. 
I was then left for a time in an uncertain, purposeless state, 
with nothing in particular to occupy me. After being given 
plainly to understand by my brother-in-law that my pres- 
ence was not at all necessary to his happiness, I was finally 
thrust into the counting-house at the foot of the ladder, as 
the best means of getting rid of me. 

The fact is, I was more ambitious than amiable, and my 
brother-in-law was more arbitrary than agreeable. I was 
stubborn and headstrong, impatient under correction, chafing 
over every rub against my country angularities ; he distant, 
unsympathizing, and injudicious in his management of me. 
I felt that I was not understood, and saw no way of making 
myself known to him. Any attempt to advance or to rise 
above the position first assigned me was frowned down ; not 



48 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

because he hated, or wished to injure, or persecute me, but 
because he thought boys should not be presumptuous, that 
they should be kept in the background — especially pale, 
thin, thoughtful, supersensitive brothers-in-law. 

For some six months I held this anomalous position, till 
one day the chief bookkeeper intimated to me that, in the 
opinion of the head of the house, nature had never designed 
me for a bookseller — a species of divinity in the eyes of 
these men born but not made — and that should I retire 
from active duty no one about the premises would be over- 
whelmed with sorrow. In plain EngHsh, I was discharged. 
The blood which mantled my face under a sense of what I 
deemed indignity and wrong was my only response ; yet in 
my heart I was glad. I saw that this was no place for me, 
that my young life was being turned to wormwood, and that 
my bosom was becoming a hell of hatefulness. 

I have never in my life, before that time or since, enter- 
tained a doubt of reasonable success in any reasonable under- 
taking. I now determined to start in business on my own 
account. Since I could not work for the Buffalo booksell- 
ing people, I would work for myself. I was entirely without 
money, having received nothing for my services — which in- 
deed were worth nothing — yet I borrowed enough to take 
me back to Ohio, and Mr. Derby, it appears, had sufficient 
confidence to trust me for a few cases of goods. Shipping 
my stock up the lake to Sandusky, and thence by rail to 
Mansfield, the terminus of the road, I hurried on to Granville 
for a horse and wagon, with which I proceeded back to 
Mansfield, loaded up, and began distributing my goods 
among the country merchants of that vicinity. For about 
four months I traveled in this manner over different parts of 
my native State, selling, remitting, and ordering more goods, 
and succeeding in the main very well ] that is to say, I paid 
my expenses, and all the obligations I had before contracted, 
and had enough left to buy a silver watch, and a suit of black 
broadcloth. Never was watch like that watch, fruit as it was 
of my first commercial earnings. 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 49 

Winter approaching, I sold out my stock, paid my debts, 
and went home. Owing to my success, it seems, I had risen 
somewhat in the estimation of the Buffalo book magnates, 
and just as my mind was made up to enter school for the 
winter I was summoned back to Buffalo, with instructions to 
bring my youngest sister, Mary, afterward Mrs. Trevett. We 
embarked at Sandusky, encountering the first night out a 
storm, and after beating about among the short jerky waves 
of the lake for two days, we reached Buffalo on the 8th of 
December, 1849. This time I was to enter the store as a 
recognized clerk, and was to receive a salary of one hundred 
dollars a year from the first of January, 1850. 

I now began to look upon myself as quite a man. A hun- 
dred dollars was a great deal of money ; I was over seven- 
teen years of age, had traveled, had been in business, and 
was experienced. So I relaxed a little from puritanical 
ideas of propriety. I bought a high hat and a cane ; smoked 
now and then surreptitiously a cigar; a gaudy tie adorned 
my neck, and a flashy ring encircled my finger. I do not 
think I ever held myself in higher estimation before or since ; 
at no time of my life did I ever presume so much on my 
knowledge, or, as I imagined, present so fine an appearance. 

Soon I found myself more in sympathy with my employer, 
and felt that he now began somewhat to understand me. 
And here I will pay my tribute of respect to the memory of 
Mr. Derby. He was of unblemished reputation, thoroughly 
sound in morals, sincere in rehgion, honest in his business, 
kind in his family, warm and lovable in his friendships, patri- 
otic as a citizen, and liberal, chivalrous, and high-spirited as 
a man and a gentleman. He was among the best friends I 
ever had — he, and his wife, my sister. He seemed to repose 
the utmost confidence in me, trusted me, a green boy, in the 
midst of the whirlpool of the Californian carnival, with prop- 
erty which he could ill afford to lose, the risk being regarded 
as little less than madness on his part by business acquaint- 
ances. His death I felt more keenly than that of any other 
man who ever died. His goodness will remain fresh hi my 
4 



50 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

memory to my dying day. Yet, when thrown together as 
under our first relations — he the master, I the boy — our 
dispositions and natures were strangely out of tune. He 
held his own peculiar views regarding the training and treat- 
ment of relatives. He seemed to delight in tormenting, in a 
business way, all who were in any wise allied to him by blood 
or marriage, and the nearer the relationship the greater the 
persecution. He was particularly severe with me; and it 
was only when a younger brother of his was with him, one 
nearer to him than I, and on whom his merciless words were 
showered, that I found relief. While but a child, and before 
I went to Buffalo, or had ever been away from home, I was 
sent into the backwoods of Ohio to obtain subscriptions for 
a work on the science of government. Of course I made a 
failure of it, enduring much head-sickness and heart-sickness 
thereby, and was laughed to scorn as a youth who would 
never succeed at anything. My father, totally inexperienced 
in the book business, but having a little money wherewith to 
make the purchase, was induced to take a cargo of books 
down the Mississippi river, which proved to be another fail- 
ure and a severe loss. 

With a sister ever kind to me, and an employer really desir- 
ous of advancing my best interests, the training I underwent 
at this period of my life was about as injudicious for an ambi- 
tious, sensitive youth as could well have been devised. Even 
after my return from Ohio I was at times headstrong, impa- 
tient of restraint, impudent, angry, and at open war with my 
brother-in-law ; yet I was eager to learn, quick, and intelli- 
gent, and would gladly have worked, early and late, with 
faithful and willing diHgence in any advancing direction. 
But it seemed that my employer still considered it best for 
me to be kept down ; to be censured much and never praised; 
to have one after another placed above me v/hom I very nat- 
urally deemed no more capable than myself. The consequence 
was that during the greater part of my stay in Buffalo I was 
in a sullen state of exasperation. I was hateful, stubborn, 
and greatly to be blamed, but the discipline I received only 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 51 

intensified these faults, and tended in no wise to remove them. 
One word of kindness, and I would have followed this man 
to the death ; yet while he crucified me he did not mean to 
be cruel, and sometimes I was really happy in his society. I 
know he was full of generous feeling for me even while I tried 
him most; for when, after leaving for California, I sent him 
a letter, opening my heart as I had never done before, on 
receipt of it, as my sister told me, he threw himself upon the 
sofa and wept like a child. 

The mould destined for me ill-fitting my nature, which 
would not be melted for recasting, or even made to assume 
comeliness by attrition, I fell into my own ways, which were 
very bad ways: tramping the streets at night with jovial 
companions, indulging in midnight suppers and all-night 
dancings. Lo, how the puritan's son has fallen ! Conscience 
pricked faithfully at first ; but I soon grew easier in mind ; 
then reckless ; and finally neglecting my Bible, my prayers, 
and all those Sabbath restraints which hold us back from 
rushing headlong to destruction, I gave myself over to hard- 
ness of heart. Yet all this time I usually listened with enjoy- 
ment and profit to one sermon on Sunday ; I also attended 
lectures given by Park Benjamin, G. P. R. James, John B. 
Gough, and others ; these and novel-reading comprised my 
intellectual food. 

Into that bookseller's shop I went with all the untempted 
innocence of a child ; out of it I came with the tarnish of so- 
called manly experience. There I plucked my first forbidden 
fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil ; yet the 
sense of right remained, and that remorse which ever mixes 
bitter with the sweets of sin. 

Every now and then I would turn over a new leaf; bravely 
begin a diary, scoring the first page with high resolves, such 
as total abstinence from every species of wickedness, deter- 
mined to think, speak, and do no evil, to walk always as be- 
fore the eye of Omniscience, clean in heart, pure in mind, 
and strong in body ; in short, to be a perfect man — which 
sublime state of things, wrought up beyond human endur- 



52 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ance, would last sometimes for three days or three weeks, and 
end in a collapse. Sometimes I would keep my diary up 
during the year; then again I would open a blank book, 
without fixed dates, and discharge my burning thoughts into 
it in the hope of relief. No sooner had I departed from 
Buffalo on my way to California than all desire left me to 
commit these foolish boyish excesses. There was then no 
one to hoodwink, no watchful eye to circumvent ; it ceased 
to be amusing when I was my own master; so when thrown 
into the pandemonium at San Francisco I had not the slight- 
est inclination to make a beast or a villain of myself. 

But the time thus lost ! How have I longed to live again 
those years. Six years of my young life as good as squan- 
dered, in some respects worse, for instead of laying the 
foundation for health, purity, intellect, I was crushing my 
God-given faculties, damming the source of high thoughts 
and ennobling affections, and sowing by Stygian streams the 
wild seeds of perdition. At the time when of all others the 
plant needs judicious care, when the hard soil needs soften- 
ing, the ill-favored branches pruning, the destroyer steps in 
and places locusts on the leaves and worms about the roots. 

How I have longed to go back and place myself with a 
riper experience under my own tuition, and see what would 
come of it ! How I would gather in those golden oppor- 
tunities which were so ruthlessly thrown away; how I would 
prize those hours, and days, and years so flippantly regarded ; 
how I would cherish and cultivate that body and mind so 
well-nigh wrecked on the shoals of youthful folly ! Why could 
we not have been born old, and from decrepitude with learn- 
ing and wisdom have grown young, and so have had the 
benefit of our wealth of experience in the enjoyment of our 
youth ! It seems that if I had only known something of 
what life is and the importance of right living, I could have 
made almost anything of myself So has thought many 
another ; and so thinking, life appears such a delusion — the 
life which to know requires living, and which is lived only to 
know that it is lost ! 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 53 

It was a few months before I left my home for the first 
time that gold had been discovered in California; but not 
until a year later did the news so overspread the country as 
to cause any excitement in the quiet town of Granville. 
Scarcely had I reached Buffalo the second time when letters 
informed me that my father was thinking of going to the new 
El Dorado. The ancient leaven of industry and enterprise 
still worked in him, and although far past the average age 
of those who joined the pilgrimage to the golden shrine, he 
could not resist the temptation. Though but little over fifty, 
he was called an old man in those days in California. By the 
I St of February it was settled that he would go, and in March, 
1850, he set sail from New York. I had a boyish desire to 
accompany him, but did not think seriously of going at the 
time. I was more absorbed in flirtations, oyster suppers, and 
dancing parties than fascinated by the prospect of digging for 
gold. 

Nevertheless the wheel of my destiny was turning. In- Jan- 
uary, 1 85 1, Mr, Derby received a letter from an uncle of 
mine, my mother's brother, then in Oregon, ordering a large 
quantity of books. This demand, coming from a new and 
distant market, made quite an impression upon the mind of 
the ardent young bookseller. Visions filled his brain of mam- 
moth warehouses rising in vast cities along the shores of the 
Pacific, of publication offices and manufacturing establish- 
ments, having hundreds of busy clerks and artisans, buying, 
making, and selling books, and he would walk the floor excit- 
edly and talk of these things by the hour, until he was well- 
nigh ready to sell out a safe and profitable business, pack up, 
and go to California himself. These visions w^ere prophetic ; 
and through his instrumentality one such establishment as he 
had dreamed of was planted in the metropolis of this western 
seaboard, although he did not live to know of it. 

My nearest companion at this time was a fellow-clerk, 
George L. Kenny, the son of an Irish gentleman. He had 
come to seek his fortune in America, and found his way al- 
most direct from the mother country to the Buffalo bookstore, 



54 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

where he had been engaged but a few months when I first 
arrived there. From that day for over a third of a century 
his life and mine were closely linked. In physique he was tall, 
thin, and muscular, somewhat awkward in his movements, 
with an open countenance, as we used to call his large mouth, 
which in laughing he displayed to its widest extent. I have 
occasion to remember both the awkwardness and the strength 
of my ancient comrade ; for one day in Buffalo, " skylarking," 
as we termed it, with his huge fist he placed my nasal organ 
out of line, where it ever after remained. In disposition and 
character he was generous almost to a fault ; affectionate, 
warm-hearted, and mild, though passionate and stubborn 
when roused; jovial and inspiriting as a companion, stanch 
and reliable as a friend, and honest as a man. He it was who 
introduced me into the mysteries of bookselling, and other 
and more questionable mysteries, when first I went to Buffalo. 

Mr. Derby was a man of many ideas. Though practical 
and conservative in the main, the fertility of his brain and 
his enthusiasm often gave him little rest. Once seized with 
the thought of California in connection with his business, he 
could not dispossess his mind of it. There it fastened, causing 
him many a restless day and sleepless night. He talked of 
sending out one, then another, then he thought he would go 
himself; but much of what was said he knew to be impracti- 
cable, and all the while his ideas were dim and shadowy. 
Finally he talked more directly of me as the one to go — why 
I do not know, unless it was that I could best be spared, and 
also that I had friends there, who, if it should be needed, 
might supply me with money. Oregon was the point at this 
time talked of I was ready to go, but had as yet no special 
enthusiasm for the adventure. 

Meanwhile Mr. Derby had sent three shipments of goods 
to the Pacific; one small lot sold at seventy-five per cent, 
above the invoice, and although the other two were lost, one 
by fire and the other by failure of the consignee, the success 
was sufficient to excite great hopes. This, together with a 



THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER. 55 

letter from my father received toward the latter part of 
December, 1851, determined me to go to California. I was 
anxious to have Mr. Kenny accompany me. He v/ould like 
much to go, he said, but had not the m-oney. I urged him 
to speak to Mr. Derby about it. He did so, when our now 
most gracious employer replied : ^' For a long time I have 
been desirous of your going to CaUfornia ; only I would not 
propose it." He then entered heartily into our plans and 
opened the way for both of us. 

I felt by no means eager for gold ; it was rather boyish love 
of adventure that prompted me. California was pictured in 
my mind as a nondescript country on the other side of huge 
mountains, which once overstepped, with most that I cared 
for left behind, there was little hope of return. I was not so 
weaned but that I must see my mother before I departed, 
perhaps never to return; and although it involved an un- 
pleasant and expensive journey over the snow in the dead 
of winter, I immediately performed it. Then bidding all a 
long farewell, and calling on the way upon Mr. James C. 
Derby of Auburn, my comrade Kenny and I went down to 
New York, entered our names at the Irving House, and were 
ready to embark by the next steamer. 



CHAPTER V. 

HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 
Never despair ; but if you do, work in despair;— ^^/ry^^. 

A DETAILED description of an eariy voyage from New 
York to Chagres, across the Isthmus to Panama, and 
thence to San Francisco, belongs rather to the time than to 
the individual. During the first fifteen years of my residence 
on the western coast I made the passage between New York 
and San Francisco by way of Panama no less than eleven 
times, thus spending on the water nearly one year, or what 
would be almost equivalent to every other Sunday during 
that time. Many made the voyage twice or thrice as often, 
and life on the steamer was but apart of California life. It was 
there the beginning was made ; it was sometimes the ending. 
It was there the angular eccentricities were first filed off, and 
roughly filed, as many a soft-bearded fledgling experienced. 

In my California Biter Poaila I have given a description of 
my first voyage. I have there given it in detail, not because 
of anything particularly striking, but to show what the voy- 
age in those days was ; for, excepting shipwrecks, epidemics, 
or other special calamities, they were all very much alike. I 
shall not therefore repeat the narrative here, but merely say 
that on the 24th of February, 1852, in company with Mr. 
Kenny, I embarked at New York on the steamer George Law, 
bound for Habana. On reaching this port the sixth day, pas- 
sengers, mails, and freight were transferred, with those of the 
steamer from New Orleans, to the Georgia, which that night 
sailed for Chagres, touching at Jamaica. Arrived at Chagres 
we were sent to Aspinwall to disembark, so that we might 
pay the fare over some six or eight miles of the Panama rail- 

56 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 57 

way just then opened for that distance. After the usual delay 
on the Isthmus we went on board the steamer Fafiamd the 
1 2th of March, touched at several ports on the Pacific, and 
reached San Francisco at twelve o'clock the first day of April. 

When I arrived in California John Bigler was governor. 
The capital had just been removed from Vallejo to Sacra- 
mento. In San Francisco the troubles with squatters, Peter 
Smith titles, and water-lot frauds were attracting the chief 
attention. Portions of the street were brilliantly lighted from 
the glare of gambling-saloons; elsewhere all was thick dark- 
ness. On Montgomery street, indeed, lamps were posted by 
the occupants, but there was no system of street lights, and 
in the dark places about the docks, in the back streets, and 
round the suburbs, many dark deeds were committed. Crime, 
driven into holes and hiding-places by the Vigilance Com- 
mittee of 185 1, was beginning to show its face again, but the 
authorities, roused to a sense of duty by the late arbitrary 
action of the citizens, were more on the alert than formerly, 
and criminals were caught and punished with some degree 
of certainty. Agriculture was attracting more attention than 
at any previous time. Bull and bear fights at the Mission, 
and the childHke game of A B C on Long wharf, were in 
vogue. Gambling was somewhat on the decline ; but it was 
the day of grand raffles, grand auction sales, grand quartz- 
mining schemes, and Biscaccianti concerts. Fire and flood 
held alternate sway over the destinies of town and country, 
aiding other causes to accomplish business disruptions and 
failures. 

It was the day of long annual sessions of the legislature, 
of fighting officials, and anti-Chinese meetings — though con- 
cerning this last named fermentation the question arises. 
When in California was it not ? The most striking feature 
of the town was still the gambling-houses, the more aristo- 
cratic establishments being then situated on the plaza and 
Commercial street, and the lower dens principally on Long 
wharf. The better class supported a fine orchestra of five 
or six wind instruments, while in others a dissonant piano 



53 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

or violin gave the invitation to enter. The building was 
usually a mere shell, while the interior was gorgeously dec- 
orated and illumined with chandeliers presenting a mass of 
glittering glass pendants. Monte, faro, roulette, lansquenet, 
vingt-et-un, and rouge-et-noir were the favorite games, 
though many others were played. During week-days these 
places were usually quiet, but at night and on Sundays the 
jingling of coin and the clinking of glasses were mingled with 
the music of the orchestra in hellish harmony. Above all 
voices w^as heard that of the dealer : " Make your game, gen- 
tlemen, make your game ! All down ? Make your game ! 
All down? The game is made! no more; deuce, black 
wins." 

Then followed the raking-in process, and the paying-out, 
after which came a new shuffle and a new deal ; and thus 
the performance was repeated and the excitement kept up 
throughout the fleeting hours of the night. Round the tables 
sat beautiful women in rustling silks and flaming diamonds, 
their beauty and magnificent attire contrasting strangely with 
the grizzly features, slouched hats, and woollen shirts of their 
victims. The license for a single table was fifty dollars per 
quarter. In some saloons were eight or ten of these tables, 
in others but one; and there were hundreds of saloons, so 
that the revenue to the city was large. A bill prohibiting 
gambling was introduced in the legislature just before I ar- 
rived, but it was lost in the senate. 

Two days and nights amid scenes like these in San Fran- 
cisco were sufficient to prepare the boyish mind for the pan- 
demonium of the mines. The days were spent in wandering 
about the business parts of the town, wading through muddy 
streets, and climbing sand-hills; the nights in going from 
one gaming-house to another, observing the crowds of peo- 
ple come and go, watching the artistic barkeepers in their 
white coats mixing fancy drinks and serving from gorgeously 
decorated and mirrored bars fiery potations of every kind, 
gazing in rapt bewilderment upon the fortune-turning table 
with its fatal fascinations, marking the piles of money in- 



I 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 59 

crease and lessen, and the faces behind them broaden and 
lengthen, and listening to the music that mingled with the 
chinking of gold, the rattling of glasses, and the voices of 
rough, loud-laughing men. "There are indeed but very 
few," says Addison, " who know how to be idle and inno- 
cent." Two days and nights of this; then from Long wharf 
we boarded a steamboat and went to Sacramento. 

Having letters to Barton Reed and Grimm, commission 
merchants of Sacramento, to whom Mr. Derby had made 
one or two consignments of books on a venture, we imme- 
diately called on them and talked over the relative business 
chances in San Francisco and Sacramento. The idea of 
going to Oregon had been long since abandoned, and now 
Sacramento seemed to offer more attractions for the open- 
ing of a small shop than any other place. 

Sacramento having been decided on, the next thing was 
to write Mr. Derby and inform him of our decision. This 
done we took the boat for Marysville, en route for Long bar, 
in search of my father. There I was initiated into the mys- 
teries of mining and mining life. The placer diggings of 
this locality were then good, and so remained for several 
years, but the population changed every few months, the 
dissatisfied leaving and new adventurers coming in. Ten 
dollars a day was too Uttle in the eyes of those accustomed 
to make twenty, and so they sold or abandoned their claims 
and prospected for richer diggings. Wandering thus from 
placer to placer for years, they lost their opportunity, if not 
their lives, and usually ended their mining career where they 
began, without a dollar. 

When my father came to the country, my eldest brother, 
Curtis, who had preceded him, was keeping a store and 
hotel at Long bar. He was doing well, was making money 
steadily and safely. At one time he had five thousand dollars 
surplus capital, with which he started for San Francisco, there 
to invest it in city lots. Had he done so, buying judiciously 
and holding, he might now be worth his millions. Unfortu- 



6o LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

nately, he communicated the plan to John C. Fall, then one 
of the leading merchants of Marysville, and by him he was 
induced to make a venture which involved his leaving Long 
bar, and ultimately ended in financial ruin. Rich bar, on 
Feather river, had lately been discovered, and was drawing 
multitudes of fortune-seekers from every quarter. It was not 
difficult for Mr. Fall to persuade my brother, with abundance 
of means and unlimited credit, to buy a band of mules and 
load them with goods for that place. Once there he erected 
a building, and opened a .hotel and store. For a time ail 
went well. Up and down the river the diggings were rich, 
and gold dust was poured into his coffers by the quart. The 
establishment at Long bar seemed insignificant in comparison, 
and he sold it and moved his family to Rich bar. My father 
remained at Long bar. He had been in the country now 
about two years, had accumulated a little sum, and meant 
soon to return home. But shortly before setting out an 
opportunity offered whereby he might increase his Uttle for- 
tune tenfold, and without a risk of failure — so it seemed to 
him and to others. 

Quartz mining was about this time attracting attention, 
and the prospect was very flattering. The ledge was dis- 
covered and staked off, its dimensions told, its rock assayed, 
the cost of crushing estimated, and the number of years cal- 
culated before the mine would be exhausted. Surely this was 
no vain speculation, it was a simple arithmetical problem, the 
quantity, the quality, the cost of separation, and the net prof- 
its. Yet it was a problem which wrecked thousands. The 
gold was in the mine, and rock enough of an ascertained 
grade to last for years, but the cost of extracting was more 
than had been anticipated, and, what was worst of all, the 
methods of saving the gold after the rock was crushed were 
imperfect, so that even good rock failed to pay expenses. 

Two miles from Long bar, near the Marysville road, was 
a place called Brown valley, and through this ran a quartz 
ledge, long known but regarded as valueless, because no one 
could extract the gold from the hard white rock which held 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 6l 

it. When, however, quartz mining became the fashion, and 
every one who owned a share was sure of a fortune, this ledge 
was taken up and staked off into claims under the names of 
different companies. One of these companies was called the 
Plymouth, always a pleasing name to the ear of my father, 
and as the lode held an abundance of gold, he w^as induced 
to invest — not venture — the greater part of the money he 
had made, before returning home. 

Midway between Long bar and the mine ran a little 
stream, whose name. Dry creek, was significant of its charac- 
ter, for like many other streams in California, though flush 
with water in the winter, it was dry as a parlor floor in the 
summer. This stream had been dammed, a race dug, and a 
quartz mill with eight or ten stamps constructed, all in work- 
ing order; and at the time of my arrival it was just ready, as 
it had been at any time since its erection, to make every 
shareholder rich. It was necessary merely to effect some 
little change in the method of extracting and saving the gold, 
and this was receiving attention. 

I found my father, in connection with other members of the 
Plymouth association, busily engaged in working this mine. 
He occupied a little cloth house in the vicinity of the ledge, 
and being the owner of a good mule team, employed himself 
in hauling rock from the mine to the mill, about one mile 
apart, and in gathering wood with which to bum the rock, so 
that it could be the more easily crushed. The first night I 
spent with him in the hotel at Long bar. Foremost among 
my recollections of the place are those of the fleas, which to- 
gether with the loud snorings and unpleasant odors proceeding 
from the crowd of men strewn about on bunks, benches, tables, 
and floor, so disturbed my sleep that I arose and went out to 
select a soft place on the hill-side above the camp, where I 
rolled myself in a blanket and passed the night, my first in the 
open air in California. 

The next day found me settled down to business. As eight 
or nine months must elapse before my letter from Sacramento 
could be received by Mr. Derby, and goods reach me by way 



62 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of Cape Horn, it was arranged that I should work with my 
father for the Plymouth company. In the morning we dimbed 
the oak trees scattered about the valley, and with an axe 
lopped off the large brittle branches, adding them to the 
already huge pile of wopd beside the mill. At noon we pro- 
ceeded to the little cloth house, unharnessed and fed the ani- 
mals, and then cooked and ate our dinner. Beefsteak, beans, 
bread, and potatoes, with coffee, canned fruits, pancakes, or 
anything of the kind we chose to add, constituted the fare of 
self-boarding miners in those days ; but v/ith all our culinary 
talents we could not offer Mr. Kenny a meal sufficiently tempt- 
ing to induce him to partake of it, and so he obtained his 
dinner from a boarding-house near-by, and left shortly after- 
ward for Rich bar. 

I cannot say that I enjoyed this kind of life, and could 
scarcely have endured it but for the thought that it was only 
temporary. At night the animals were turned loose to graze. 
Early in the morning, long before the sun had risen, I was 
up and over the hills after them. Stiff and sore from the 
previous day's work, wet with wading through the long, damp 
grass, I was in no humor to enjoy those glorious mornings, 
ushered in by myriads of sweet songsters welcoming the 
warm sunUght which came tremblingly through the soft misty 
air. To the clouds of top-knotted quails which rose at my 
approach, the leaping hare, the startled deer, and the thick 
beds of fresh fragrant flowers which I trampled under my feet, 
I was alike indififerent. How I loaded and lashed the poor 
dumb beasts, and gritted my teeth with vexation over the un- 
welcome task ! The sharp rocks cut my hands, the heavy logs 
of wood strained my muscles ; and my temper, never one of 
the sweetest, fumed and fretted like that of a newly chained 
cub. Were it in my power I would have multiplied those 
mules so as to smite the more. 

The night before leaving Buffalo I had danced until morn- 
ing. It happened that about the only clothes saved from the 
thieves of the Isthmus were what I had used on that occa- 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 6^ 

sion. These I wore until work turned them into rags. In 
the pocket I found one day a pair of white kid gloves, relic 
of past revelries, and putting them on I gathered up the reins, 
mounted the load, and beating my mules into a round trot, 
rode up to the mill laughing bitterly at the absurdity of the 
thing. Ten or twelve loads was a fair day's work ; I hauled 
twenty or twenty-five. A dollar a load was the price allowed 
— but it was not money, it was wrath, that made me do it. 
My father, though mild in his treatment of me, expostulated. 
He feared I would kill the animals. I said nothing, but when 
out of his sight I only drove them the harder. Little cared 
I whether the mules or myself were killed. Sunday was a 
day of rest, but on Monday I felt sorer in body and mind 
than on any other day. I had brought plenty of books with 
me, but could not read, or if I did it was only to raise a flood 
of longings which seemed sometimes to overwhelm me. My 
soul was in harmony with nothing except the coyotes which 
all night howled discordantly behind the hills. 

After two months of this kind of life the hot weather was 
upon us. The streams began to dry up ; water was becoming 
scarce. We had heaped up the wood and the rock about 
the mill, and my tally showed a long score against the com- 
pany for work. But the mill did not pay. There was always 
something wrong about it, some little obstacle that stood in 
the way of immediate success : the stamps were not heavy 
enough, or they did not work smoothly; the rest of the 
machinery was inadequate, and the rock was harder than had 
been anticipated. That it w^as hard enough, I who had 
handled it well knew. There was no money, but there were 
plenty of shares. 

I cannot tell why neither my father nor I should have seen 
by this time that the enterprise was a failure. But we did 
not see it. We had schooled ourselves in the belief that the 
rocky bank contained a mint of money which must some day 
enrich the possessor. But there was then nothing more to be 
done, and my father concluded to pay a parting visit to my 
brother at Rich bar and set out for home. For our work we 



64 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

took more shares, and still more in exchange for the team and 
the scattering effects, and abandoned it all forever. Several 
years afterward I learned that a new company had taken 
possession of the claim and was doing well. After leaving 
the place I firmly resolved that thenceforth, whatever specu- 
lation I might at any time engage in, it should be not with 
my own labor. I might stake money, but if I worked with 
my hands I would have pay for such labor. 

Behold us now ! my aged father and myself, tramping over 
the plains beneath a broiling sun about the middle of June, 
each with a bundle and stick, mine containing my sole pos- 
sessions. In the early morning, fresh from sleep, with glad- 
ness of heart at leaving the valley of hateful memories behind, 
we marched away over the hills at a round pace. But as the 
sun above our heads neared the point from which it poured 
its almost perpendicular rays, I became excessively fatigued. 
My feet blistered ; my limbs ached ; water was to be had only 
at intervals ; the prayed-for breath of air came hot and suffo- 
cating, like a sirocco, mingled with clouds of dust from the 
parched plain. Thinking over my short experience in the 
country and my present position, I exclaimed, " If this be 
California, I hope God will give me little of it." As we trod 
slowly along, stepping Hghtly on the burning ground, I began 
to think the mules would have been better for our purpose 
than the shares, but I said nothing. 

That day we walked thirty miles, crossed the river at Bid- 
well bar, intending to stop over night at a rancho some 
distance beyond in the mountains; but we had not ascended 
far before I persuaded my father to camp, for rest I must. 
He willingly complied, and selecting a sheltered place well 
covered with dry leaves we spread our blankets. In a moment 
I was asleep, and knew nothing further till morning, when I 
awoke almost as fresh as ever. We had food with us, but the 
night before I had been too tired to eat. The first day was 
the worst. We were now in the cool, fragrant air of the Sierra, 
travelHng a well-beaten path intersected by numerous rivulets 
of melted snow. The third day we reached Rich bar in good 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 65 

condition. My father, after a visit of about a week, returned 
with a train of mules to Marysville, where he took the boat 
for San Francisco, and thence the steamer homeward. 

As I had still six months or thereabout to wait for my goods, 
I agreed to remain with my brother Curtis for such compen- 
sation as he could afford to give. My duties v/ere to carry on 
the store and look after the business generally in his absence. 
Mr. Kenny was likewise engaged by my brother for an estab- 
lishment at Indian bar, a few miles down the river. There 
we remained until November, when we went to San Francisco. 

Shortly before leaving Rich bar I had received intelligence 
of the death of Harlow Palmer, eldest son of George Palmer, 
a v/ealthy and highly respected citizen of Buffalo. Harlow 
Palmer had married my sister Emily. Away in the heart of 
the Sierra I received the mournful tidings as a message from 
another w^orld. I said nothing to any one ; but when the 
sun had buried itself in the granite waves beyond, and had 
left the sky and earth alone together, alone to whisper to each 
other their old-time secrets, with my own sad secret I wan- 
dered forth beside the transparent river, where gold-diggers 
had honeycombed the pebbly bottom and opened graves for 
myriads of hopes, and there, down in the deep canon, I sped 
my longings upward, the only window of escape for pent-up 
trouble. 

But this was only the. beginning of sorrow. Scarcely had 
I reached Sacramento when the death of George H. Derby 
was announced. Surely, said I, there must be a mistake. It 
is Mr. Palmer they mean ; they have confused the husbands 
of the two sisters. I would not beheve it ; it could not be. 
Letters, however, soon confirmed the report. The two 
brothers-in-law, young, high-spirited, active, inteUigent, prom- 
ising men, the warmest of friends, had both been smitten by 
the cholera in the same month. 

All my plans and purposes I saw at once were at an end. 

I knew very v/ell that no one else, now that Mr. Derby was 

dead, would do so foolish a thing as to continue shipments 

of goods to an inexperienced, moneyless boy in California. 

5 



66 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Indeed, directly after receiving the first sad intelligence came 
a letter from the executor, requesting the speedy sale of the 
consignment about to arrive and the remittance of the money. 
Accompanying this order was an urgent but most unneces- 
sary appeal to my sympathies in behalf of my sister, Mrs. 
Derby. The estate, it affirmed, would net little else than the 
property in my hands, without which the widow and children 
must suffer. 

Having no further business in Sacramento, I went down 
to the bay and stopped at the Rassette house, where also 
Kenny was domiciled. I was determined that, whatever the 
cost, Mrs. Derby should have the full amount of the invoice, 
with commissions added, as soon as the goods could be con- 
verted into money and the proceeds remitted to her. To sell 
in the market, at that time, a miscellaneous assortment of 
books and stationery in one lot, without a sacrifice, was im- 
possible. I determined there should be no sacrifice, even if 
I had to peddle them from door to door. I possessed only 
one hundred and fifty dollars, the result of my services at 
Rich bar, and began to look about for employment till the 
goods should arrive. At none of the several book and 
stationery shops was there any prospect. I was thin, young, 
awkward, bashful, had no address, and was slow of wit. 
Besides, merchants were shy of a clerk with shipments of 
goods behind him; for why should he desire a situation 
except to learn the secrets of his employer and then use them 
to his own advantage ? I explained the poverty of my pros- 
pects and declared the purity of my intentions. All was in 
vain ; nobody would have my services, even as a gift. 

Mr. Kenny was more fortunate. In his nature were 
blended the suaviter i?z modo and the fortiter in re. He was 
older than I, and possessed of an Irish tongue withal ; so that 
he made friends wherever he went. An equal partnership was 
offered him by WilHam B. Cooke, who had lately dissolved 
with Josiah J. Le Count, and was then establishing himself 
anew at the corner of Merchant and Montgomery streets. 
The terms were that Kenny should place upon Cooke's 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 67 

shelves the stock sent out to me ; that the proceeds should 
be remitted east as fast as sales were made, or, if possible, 
payments should be even faster than this; in any event 
not less than five hundred dollars was to be paid on each 
steamer day. Meanwhile I must provide for myself; but 
this did not trouble me. I readily consented, stipulating 
only for immediate control of the stock if the firm did not 
remit as promised. In no surer or quicker way could I 
realize the invoice price for the whole shipment, and this was 
now my chief ambition. 

Presently the goods arrived, and the firm of Cooke, Ken- 
ny, and Company was organized, the company being a young 
friend of Mr. Cooke. I had free access to the premises, and 
watched matters closely for a while. Everything went on 
satisfactorily, and the whole amount was remitted to the ex- 
ecutors of Mr. Derby's estate according to agreement. Mean- 
time I had applied m^yself more earnestly than ever to obtain 
work of some kind. I must stay in San Francisco at least 
until my account with the estate was settled, and I greatly 
preferred remaining in the city altogether. Mines and the 
miners, and country trading of any kind, had become exceed- 
ingly distasteful to me, I felt, if an opportunity were offered, 
that I would prove competent and faithful in almost any capac- 
ity ; for though diffident I had an abundance of self-reliance, 
and would do anything. Accustomed to work all my life, 
idleness was to me the greatest of afflictions, and I envied 
the very hod-carriers. 

Thus for six months, day after day, I tramped the streets 
of San Francisco seeking work and finding none. Hundreds 
have since in like manner applied to me, and remembering 
how the harsh refusals once cut my sensitive nature, I try 
to be kind to applicants of whatsoever degree, and if not 
able to give work I can at least, ofier sympathy and advice. 
Finally, sick with disappointment, I determined to leave the 
city : but not for the Sierra foothills ; rather China or Aus- 
tralia. The choice must be made quickly, for the last dollar 
from Rich bar was gone, and I would not five on others, or 



6S LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

run in debt with nothing wherewith to pay. Often I wan- 
dered among the shipping and scanned the vessels for differ- 
ent ports. I knew Httle of the various parts of the world, 
and had little choice where to go. My future turned upon a 
hair. 

In the spring of 1853 the San Francisco papers began to 
notice a new town on the California shore of the Pacific, 
some fifteen or twenty miles from the Oregon boundary line. 
Crescent City the place was called, from a long sweep taken 
by the shore inward between Trinidad bay and Point St. 
George. Only a few tents and split-board houses, trembhng 
between the sullen roar of ocean at the front door and the 
ofttimes whistling wind in the dense pine forest at the back 
door, marked the site of what was to be the most important 
. town of northern California. 

On both sides of the boundary line were extensive mining 
districts, at various distances from the coast, access to which 
had hitherto been from Oregon only by way of Portland and 
Scottsburg, and from the Sacramento valley through Shasta. 
Most of the country hereabout might have been traversed in 
wagons but for one difficulty — there were no wagon roads ; 
consequently most of the merchandise carried to this port 
by steamers and sailing vessels was conveyed into the interior 
on fhe backs of mules. There was plenty of good agricultural 
land round Crescent City, and forests of magnificent timber, 
but few thought of farming in those days, and lumber could 
be more easily obtained at other points along the coast. The 
mines and their traffic ofiered the chief inducements for estab- 
lishing a city. Nor was it to depend so much on the mines 
already discovered as on those which were sure to be found 
as soon as the country was fairly prospected. The color of 
gold, they said, had been seen on Smith river, only twelve 
miles distant ; and farther up, at Althouse and Jacksonville, 
was gold itself, and men at work digging for it. As other 
parts boasted their Gold lakes and Gold bluffs, so here was 
an unsolved mystery wherein gold was the fitful goddess — a 
lone cabin that men talked of in whispers, where treasure- 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 69 

diggers long since departed had filled bags and bottles and 
tin cans with the glittering dirt that made glad the hearts of 
those awaiting them in eastern homes. Several parties went 
in search of this lone cabin at various times. It was con- 
fidently believed that some day it would be found, and when 
that day should come, a seaport town, with railways, wharves, 
and shipping, would be absolutely necessary to furnish the 
diggers in that vicinity with food and clothing, tents, whiskey, 
and playing-cards, and receive and export for the honest 
miners the tons of heavy metal which they would unearth. 

Knowing of no better place, I determined to try my fortune 
at Crescent City ; so, with fifty dollars borrowed, and a case 
of books and stationery bought on credit, I embarked on 
board the steamer Columbia about the middle of May. Two 
days and one night the voyage lasted — long enough, with 
the crowded state of the vessel and the poor comforts at my 
command, to leave me on landing completely prostrated with 
sea-sickness and fatigue. Taken ashore in a Avhale-boat, I 
crawled to a hotel and went to bed. My box was landed in 
a lighter, but for a day or two I made no attempt at business. 
Adjoining the hotel was the general merchandise store of 
Crowell and Fairfield, and there I made the acquaintance of 
Mr. Crowell, which developed into mutual confidence and 
esteem. As our friendship increased, he occasionally re- 
quested me to attend the store during his absence, and also 
to enter in the day-book the sales which he had made. At 
length, on learning my purpose, he made me an ofier of fifty 
dollars a month to keep his books, with the privilege of pla- 
cing my stock on his shelves and selling from it for my own 
account free of charge. I gladly accepted, and was soon 
enrolled as book-keeper and book-seller. As I slept in the 
store, indulged in little dissipation, and was not extravagant 
in dress, my expenses were very light, while the profits on 
my goods, which I sold only for cash, were large. Mean- 
while, as the business of the firm augmented and the duties 
became more responsible, my salary was from time to time 
increased, until at the expiration of eighteen months, with 



70 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the savings which I had accumulated and allowed to remain 
at interest with the firm, I found myself the recipient of two 
hundred and fifty dollars monthly. Some six months later 
the firm failed. I bought a portion of the stock and tried 
merchandising on my own account for a short time, but 
being dissatisfied with my life there, I disposed of the busi- 
ness, built a brick store, which I leased to some hardware 
merchants, and leaving my affairs in the hands of an agent 
returned to San Francisco. 

Though it was a trading rather than a mining town, life 
at Crescent City was in most respects similar to life in the 
mines. There was the same element in the community, the 
same lack of virtuous women, the same species of gaming- 
houses, drinking-saloons, and dens of prostitution. The 
Reverend Mr. Lacy, afterward pastor of the first Congre- 
gational society in San Francisco, essayed to build a 
church and reform the people, but his efforts were at- 
tended with poor success. 

A rancheria of natives occupied the point that formed the 
northern horn of the Crescent, and with them the citizens 
endeavored to live in peace. But one night the rancheria 
took fire, and a serious commotion was threatened. The 
natives thought the white men intended to bum them out, 
and the white men began to fear an emeute, and perhaps a 
general massacre. Morning, however, threw light upon the 
matter. It appeared that a drunken white man had taken 
lodgings in a native hut, and feeling cold, in the absence of 
the accustomed alcoholic fires had built a fire of wood to warm 
himself withal ; but, being drunk, he built it after the white 
man's fashion, at one end of the room against the bark boards 
of the house, and not where the sober savage would have 
placed it, in the centre of the room. The pioneer citizens of the 
Crescent were orderly, well-meaning men, who prided them- 
selves on emptying a five-gallon keg of the most fiery spirits ] 
San Francisco could send them, and on carrying it respect- 
ably, with eyes open, head up, and tongue capable of articu- 
lating, even though it did thicken and crisp a little sometimes 



HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA ! 7 1 

toward morning after a night at poker. They could not there- 
fore silently pass by the affront cast on their dusky neighbors 
by an unworthy member of their own color ; and in the ab- 
sence of a court of law they held a court of inquiry, whose 
finding was that the vile white man who could not drink 
without making himself drunk, should first pay the natives 
blankets, beads, and knives enough fully to satisfy them for 
loss and damage to their property, and then should leave the 
place. Well done, noble topers of the Crescent, who would 
not see even the poor savages wronged by one of their 
number ! 

The two and a half years I spent at Crescent City were 
worse than thrown away, although I did accumulate some 
six or eight thousand dollars. With an abundance of time on 
my hands, I read little but trashy novels, and though from 
diffidence I did not mingle greatly with the people, I im- 
proved my mind no better than they. One bosom friend I 
had, Theodore S. Pomeroy, county clerk and editor of the 
Herald^ probably the most intelligent man in the place, and 
much of my time outside of business I spent with him at cards 
or billiards. On Sundays there v/as horse-racing, or foot-racing, 
or cock-fighting on the beach ; and often a party, composed 
of the most respectable citizens, would start out at any time 
between midnight and daybreak, and with horns, tin pans, and 
gongs, make the round of the place, pounding at every door, 
and compelling the inmates to rise, administer drink to all, 
and join the jovial company. Knives and pistols were almost 
universally carried and recklessly used. In a drunken brawl 
a man was shot dead one night in front of my store. I did 
not rush out with others to witness the scene, and so saved 
myself a month's time, and the heavy expense of a journey to 
Yreka to attend the trial of the murderer. During my resi- 
dence I made several trips on business to San Francisco, and 
on the whole managed my affairs with prudence and economy. 
I well remember the first five hundred dollars I made. The 
sum was deposited with Page, Bacon, and Company, so that 
whatever befell me I might have that amount to carry me 



72 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

back to my friends, for I never ceased longing to see them. 
Fortunately, Crowell and Fairfield being in need of money, 
I drew it out for their use just before the bank failed. I have 
never felt so rich before or since. Having great faith in the 
ultimate growth of Crescent City, I invested my earnings 
there, though after the lapse of several years I was glad to 
realize at thirty cents on the dollar. 

My sisters had often urged me strongly to return to the 
east. Mrs. Derby, particularly, was quite alone, and she 
wished me to come, and if possible settle permanently near 
her. I nov/ felt quite independent, and consequently proud 
and happy, for my brick store at Crescent City, worth, as I 
counted it, eight thousand dollars, and rented for two hun- 
dred and fifty dollars a month, seemed at that time sufficient 
to make me comfortable without work. Hence I resolved to 
go home — the eastern side was always home then, whether 
one lived there or not — and my friend Pomeroy promised to 
accom.pany me. Meanwhile the firm of Cooke, Kenny, and 
Company had failed, from lack of capital, and Mr. Kenny 
was doing business for another house. Often have I thought 
how fortunate it was that I did not open a store in San Fran- 
cisco or Sacramento at that time, since the inevitable result 
would have been failure. As I have said, almost every firm 
then doing business failed ; and if men with capital and ex- 
perience, with a large trade already established, could not 
succeed, how could I expect to do so ? In November, 1855, 
with Mr. Pomeroy as a companion, I sailed from San Fran- 
cisco for New York, where we safely arrived, and shortly after 
separated for the homes of our respective friends. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 

Seest thou a man diligent in business, he shall stand before kings ; 
lie shall not stand before mean men. — Proverbs, 

HOME again ! None but a wanderer, and a youthful wan- 
derer, can feel those words in their fullest import. 
Back from the first three years in Cahfomia. Out of the 
depths and into paradise. Away from harassing cares, from 
the discordant contentions of money-getting, from the con- 
taminations of filthy debaucheries, beyond the shot of pistol 
or reach of bowie-knife, safe home, there let me rest. Nor 
does the prestige of success lessen the pleasure of the re- 
turned Califomian. Even our warmest friends are human. 
Those who would nurse us most kindly in sickness, who 
would spare no self-denial for our comfort, who, unworthy 
as we might be of their affection, would die for us if neces- 
sary, the hearts of even these in their thanksgiving are 
warmed with pride if to their welcome they may add " Well 
done!" 

I found my sister, Mrs. Derby, with her three daughters, 
cosily keeping house in Auburn, New York. My youngest 
sister, Mary, was with her. Soon Mrs. Palmer, my second 
sister, came down from Buffalo to see her Californian brother. 
It was a happy meeting, though saddened by the recollection 
of bereavements. Between Auburn and Buffalo I passed the 
winter delightfully, and in the spring visited my friends in 
Granville. I tried my best to like it at the east, to make up 
my mind to abandon California and settle permanently in 
Buffalo or New York, to be a comfort to my sisters, and 
a solace to my parents ; but the western coast, with all its 



74 * LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

rough hardships, had fastened itself too strongly upon me to 
be shaken off. And so round many a poor pilgrim California 
has thrown her witcheries, drawing him back to her bright 
shores whenever he attempted to leave them, like the magnetic 
mountain of Arabian story. The east, as compared with the 
west, was very comfortable, very cultivated, soothing to the 
senses and refining to the intelHgence; but society was so 
proper, so particular, and business ways seemed stale and flat. 

Suddenly, in April, 1856, 1 made up my mind no longer to 
remain there. I had visited enough and wasted time enough. 
I was impatient to be doing. So, without saying a word at 
first, I packed my trunk, and then told my sister of the resolve. 
I appreciated her kindness most fully. I regretted leaving 
her more than words could tell, but I felt that I must go ; 
there was that in California which harmonized with my aspi- 
rations and drew forth energies which elsewhere would remain 
dormant. I must be up and doing. 

On one side of the continent all was new, all was to be 
done; on the other there was no such attraction. To the 
satisfied and unambitious an eastern or European life of dolce 
far 7tiente might be delicious ; to me if I had millions it would 
be torment. The mill must needs grind, for so the maker 
ordained ; if wheat be thrown into the hopper it sends forth 
fine flour, but if unfed it still grinds, until it grinds itself away. 
I must be something of myself, and do something by myself; 
for to me some worthy aim in life was ever a necessary con- 
dition. 

" One thing do for me," said my sister, " and you may go." 

" I will ; what is it ? " 

" You remember the money sent from California in return 
for goods shipped by Mr. Derby ? " 

" Yes." 

" The money is now so invested that I am fearful of losing 
it. Help m-e to get it, then take it and use it in any way you 
think best." 

"• I will help you to get it," said I, "most certainly, but I 
could not sleep knowing that your comfort depended on my 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 75 

success. I may be honest and capable, and yet fail. I may 
WOO fortune, but I cannot command her. The risk is alto- 
gether too great for you to take.'^ 

" Nevertheless I will take it," replied my noble sister, and 
in that decision she fixed my destiny. 

After some little difficulty we succeeded in drawing the 
money, five thousand five hundred dollars, which sum was 
placed in my hands. I then asked her if she would accept a 
partnership in my proposed undertaking ; but she answered 
no, she would prefer my note, made payable in five or six 
years, with interest at the rate of one per cent, a month. 

Now it was that I determined to execute the original plan 
formed by Mr. Derby, in pursuance of which I first went to 
California ; and that with the very money, I might say, em- 
ployed by him, this being the proceeds of his original ship- 
ments — only, I would lay the foundations broader than he 
had done, establish at once a credit, for without that my 
capital would not go far, and plant myself in San Francisco 
with aspirations high and determination fixed, as became one 
who would win or die in the first city of the Pacific seaboard. 

There was a man in New York, Mr. John C. Barnes, who 
had been a warm friend of Mr. Derby. To him my sister gave 
me a letter of introduction, with which, and drafts for fifty- 
five hundred dollars, she sent me forth to seek my fortune. 
Mr. Barnes was partner in the large stationery house of Ames, 
Herrick, Barnes, and Rhoads. I found him very affable, 
stated to him my plans, deposited with him my drafts, and 
received the assurance that everything possible should be 
done to forward my wishes. First of all, I wanted to estab- 
lish business relations with the leading publishers of the east. 
I wanted the lowest prices and the longest time — the lowest 
prices so that what I was necessarily obliged to add should 
not place my stock beyond the reach of consumers, and the 
longest time because four or six months were occupied in 
transportation. 

California credit in New York at that time rated low, as 
elsewhere I have observed. Nearly every one I met had 



76 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

lost, some of them very heavily, either by flood, or fire, or 
failure. Some of their customers had proved dishonest, 
others unfortunate, and a curse seemed attached to the 
country from which at one time so much had been expected. 
I told them I was starting fresh, untrammelled, with every- 
thing in my favor, and I beUeved I could succeed; that they 
had met with dishonest men did not prove every man dis- 
honest ; and because they had lost it did not follow that they 
were always to lose. I might have added, if at that time I 
had known enough of the manner of eastern merchants in 
dealing with the California market, that for nine- tenths of their 
losses they had only themselves to blame, for after selling to 
legitimate dealers all the goods necessary for the full supply 
of the market, they would throw into auction on their own 
account in San Francisco such quantities of merchandise as 
would break prices and entail loss on themselves and ruin on 
their customers. All the blame attending California credit 
did not belong to Californians, although the disgrace might 
be laid only on them; but the shippers of New York and 
Boston knew a trick or two as well as the merchants of San 
Francisco. 

At all events, before these croakers decided against me, or 
persisted in their fixed purpose never to sell a dollar's worth 
of goods to CaUfomians without first receiving the dollar, I 
begged them to see Mr. Barnes and ascertain what he thought 
of it. This they were ready to promise, if nothing more ; and 
the consequence was that when I called the second time 
almost every one was ready to sell me all the goods I would 
buy. From that day my credit was established, becoming 
firmer with time, and ever afterward it was my first and con- 
stant care to keep it good. " A good credit, but used spar- 
ingly ; " that was my motto. At this time I did not buy 
largely, only about ten thousand dollars' worth, preferring to 
wait till I became better acquainted with the market before 
ordering heavily. This was in June. My goods shipped, I 
returned to Auburn, there to spend the few months pending 
the passage of the vessel round Cape Horn rather than await 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 77 

its arrival in California. And very pleasantly passed this 
time with the blood warm and hope high. 

October saw me again en route for San Francisco. I found 
Mr. Kenny occupying his old store with a small stock of 
goods belonging to Mr. Le Count. I told him to settle his 
business and come with me, and he did so. We engaged the 
room adjoining, near the corner of Montgomery and Mer- 
chant streets, where ten years before a yerba-buena bordered 
sand-bank was washed by the tide-waters of the' bay. Our 
stock arriving shortly after in good order, we opened it and 
began business under the firm name of H. H. Bancroft and 
Company about the first of December, 1856. There was 
nothing peculiar in the shop, its contents, business, or pro- 
prietors, that I ^m aware of. During the closing weeks of 
the year, and the opening months of the year following, the 
inside was exposed to the weather while the building was 
taking on a new froijt; but in such a climate this was no 
hardship. At night we closed the opening with empty boxes, 
and I turned into a cot bed under the counter to sleep ; 
in the morning I arose, removed the boxes, swept the prem- 
ises, put the stock in order, breakfasted, and was then ready 
to post books, sell goods, or carry bundles, according to the 
requirements of the hour. 

We let two offices, and thus reduced our rent one third, 
the original sum being two hundred and fifty dollars a month. 
With the constant fear of failure before me, I worked and 
watched unceasingly. Mr. Kenny was salesman, for he was 
much more faimiliar with the business than I ; he possessed 
many friends and had already a good trade established. 
Affairs advanced smoothly; we worked hard and made 
money, first slowly, then faster. Times were exceedingly 
dull. Year after year the gold crop had diminished ; or if 
not diminished, it required twice the labor and capital to pro- 
duce former results. Stocks had accumulated, merchants had 
fallen in arrears, and business depression was far greater than 
at any time since the discovery of gold. In the vernacular 



78 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of the day, trade had touched bottom. But hard times are 
the very best of times in which to plant and nourish a perma- 
nent business. Hard times lead to careful trading and thrift; 
flush times to recklessness and overdoing. On every side of 
us old firms were falling to pieces, and old merchants were 
forced out of business. The term " old " was then applied to 
firms of five or six years' standing. This made me all the 
more nervous about success. But we had every advantage ; 
our stock was good and well bought, our credit excellent, 
our expenses light, and gradually the business grew. 

Toward the end of the first year the idea struck me that 
I might use my credit further, without assuming much 
more responsibility, by obtaining consignments of goods in 
place of buying large quantities outright. But this would 
involve my going east to make the arrangements, and, as 
Mr. Kenny would thus be left alone, I proposed to Mr. 
Hunt, whose acquaintance had ripened into friendship, to 
join us, contribute a certain amount of capital, and take 
a third interest in the partnership. The proposition was 
accepted. Mr. Hunt came into the firm, the name of 
which remained unchanged, and soon after, that is to say 
in the autumn of 1857, I sailed for New York. My plan 
was successful. I readily obtained goods on the terms 
asked to the amount of sixty or seventy thousand dollars, 
which added largely to our facilities. 

Before returning to California, which was in the spring 
of 1858, I visited my parents, then living as happily as 
ever in Granville. My views of life had changed some- 
what since I had left my boyhood home, and later they 
changed still more. I was well enough satisfied then with 
the choice I had made in foregoing the benefits of a col- 
lege course, and my mind is much more clear upon the sub- 
ject now than then. 

While stopping in Buffalo once more I made the acquaint- 
ance of Miss Emily Ketchum, daughter of a highly respected 
and prominent citizen of the place, whom later I married. 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 79. 

In January, 1862, my wife made a visit to her friends at 
home, and the following summer I took a hurried trip to 
London, Paris, New York, and Buffalo, bringing her back 
with me. 

Shortly after my return to San Francisco, on account of 
the large additions to our stock, we rented two rooms fronting 
on Merchant street, in the rear of our store, cutting through 
the partition wall to give us access from the Montgomery 
street store. Subsequently we occupied the whole building 
on Merchant street, forty by sixty feet, three stories. 

But erelong the business had assumed such proportions that 
more room was absolutely necessary. My friends had long 
desired that I should build, and had been looking for a suit- 
able place for years without finding one. In the selection of 
a site two points were to be regarded, locality and depth of 
lot. Without the one our trade would suffer, and without the 
other, in order to obtain the amount of room necessary, so 
much frontage on the street would be taken up as to make 
the property too costly for the business to carry. In regard 
to the site, if we could not obtain exactly what we would like 
we must take what we could get. 

Following Montgomery and Kearny streets out to Market, 
we examined every piece of property and found nothing ; 
then out Market to Third street, and beyond, where after 
some difficulty, and by paying a large price to five different 
owners, I succeeded in obtaining seven lots together, three 
on Market street and four on Stevenson street, making 
in all a little more than seventy-five by one hundred and 
seventy feet. This was regarded as far beyond business 
limits at the time, but it was the best I could do, and in six 
or seven years a more desirable location could not be found 
in the city. 

It was one of the turning-points of my life, this move to 
Market street. Had I been of a temperament to hasten 
less rapidly ; had I remained content to plod along after the old 
method, out of debt and out of danger, with no thought of 
anything further than accumulation and investment, for self 



So LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and family, the map of my destiny, as well as that of many 
others, would present quite a different appearance. The truth 
is, my frequent absence from business had weaned me from 
it — this, and the constantly recurring question which kept 
forcing itself on my mind, " Is he not worse than a fool who 
labors for more when he has enough ; worse than a swine 
who stuffs himself when he is already full ? " If I could turn 
my back upon it all, it would add to my days, if that were 
any benefit. Had I known what was before me I should 
probably have retired from business at the time, but in my 
employ were as fine a company of young men, grown up un- 
der my own eye and teachings, as ever I saw in any mercan- 
tile establishment, and I had not the heart to break in pieces 
the commercial structure which with their assistance I had 
reared, and turn them adrift upon the world. 

In Europe, for the first time in my life, I had encountered 
a class of people who deemed it a disgrace to engage in trade. 
Many I had seen who were too proud or too lazy to work, 
but never before had come to my notice those who would 
not if they could make money, though it involved no manual 
labor. Here the idea seemed first to strike me, and I asked 
myself. Is there then in this world something better than 
money that these men should scorn to soil their fingers with 
it ? Now I never yet was ashamed of my occupation, and I 
hope never to be ; otherwise I should endeavor speedily to 
lay it aside. Nor do I conceive any more disgrace attached 
to laboring with the hands than with the head. I feel no 
more sense of shame when carrying a bundle or nailing up a 
box of goods than when signing a check, or writing history, 
or riding in the park. The consuming of my soul on the al- 
tar of avarice I objected to, not work. I have worked twice, 
ten times, as hard writing books as ever I did selling books. 
But for the occasional breaking away from business, long 
enough for my thoughts to form for themselves new chan- 
nels, I should have been a slave to it till this day, for no one 
was more interested and absorbed in money-making while 
engaged in it than I. 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 8l 

In accordance with my purposes, then, historical and pro- 
fessional, in 1869 I began building. Already I had in 
contemplation a costly dwelling, parts of which had been 
constructed in England and at the east, and shipped hither 
from time to time, till a great mass of material had accumu- 
lated which must be put together. I resolved, somewhat 
recklessly, to make one affair of it all, and build a store and 
dwelling-house at the same time, and have done with it. 
Times w^ere then good, business was steady, and with the 
experience of thirteen years behind me I thought I could 
calculate closely enough in money matters not to be troubled. 
Consequently my plans were drawn, I ordered my material, 
gave out contracts for the several parts, and soon a hundred 
men or more were at work. 

And now began a series of the severest trials of my life, 
trials which I gladly would have escaped in death, thanking 
the merciless monster had he finished the work which was 
half done. In December, 1869, my wife died. Other men's 
wives had died before, and left them, I suppose, as crushed 
as I was ; but mine had never died, and I knew not what it 
w^as to disjoin and bury that part of myself. 

Occupation is the antidote to grief; give me w^ork or I 
die j work which shall be to me a nepenthe to obliterate all 
sorrows. And work enough I had, but it was of the exas- 
perating and not of the soothing kind. If I could have shut 
myself up, away from the world, and absorbed my mind in 
pursuit of whatever was most congenial to it, that would 
have been medicine indeed. But this was denied me. It 
was building and business, grown doubly hateful now that 
she for whom I chiefly labored had gone. I stayed the work- 
men on the house, and let it stand, a ghastly spectacle to 
the neighborhood for over a year, and then I finished it. ' 

The business was now one of the most extensive of the 
kind in the world. It was divided into nine departments, 
each in charge of an experienced and responsible head, with 
the requisite number of assistants, and each in itself as large 
as an ordinary business in our line of trade. But this was 
6 



82 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

not enough. Thus far it was purely a mercantile and publish- 
ing house. To make it perfect, complete, and symmetrical, 
manufacturing must be added. This I had long been am- 
bitious of doing, but was prevented by lack of room. Now 
this obstacle was removed, and I determined to try the 
experiment. The mercantile stock was brought up and 
properly arranged in the different departments on the first 
and second floors and basement, on one side of the new 
building. These rooms were each thirty-five by one hundred 
and seventy feet. On the third and fourth floors respectively 
were placed a printing-office and bookbindery, each covering 
the entire ground of the building, seventy-five by one hundred 
and seventy feet. To accomplish this more easily and eco- 
nomically several small establishments were purchased and 
moved with their business into the new premises, such as 
a printing, an engraving, a lithographing, and a stationery 
establishment. A steam-engine was placed in the basement 
to drive the machinery above, and an artesian well was dug 
to supply the premises with water. A department of music 
and pianos was also added. My library of Pacific coast 
books was alphabetically arranged on the fifth floor, which 
was of the same dimensions as the rooms below. Then I 
changed the name of the business, the initial letters only, my 
responsibility, however, remaining the same. The idea was 
not eminently practicable, I will admit, that I should expect 
to remain at the head of a large and intricate business, in- 
volving many interests and accompanied by endless detail, 
see it continue its successful course, and at the same time 
withdraw my thoughts and attention from it so as to do 
justice to any literary or historical undertaking. " How dared 
you undertake crossing the Sierra ? " the pioneer railroad 
men' were asked. " Because we were not railroad men," was 
the reply. 

Thus, I felt, was ended the first episode of my Hfe. I had 
begun with nothing, building up by my own individual ef- 
forts, in sixteen years, a great business of which I might justly 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. S^ 

feel proud. I had schooled from the rudiments, and carried 
through all the ramifications and complications of that busi- 
ness, a score and more of active and intelligent young men, 
each competent to take the lead in his department, and of 
them I was proud. Arrived at that estate where money-mak- 
ing had ceased to be the chief pleasure, I might now retire 
into idleness, or begin life anew. 

But this was not yet to be. I must first pay the penalty 
of overdoing, a penalty which in my business career I have 
oftener paid than the penalty arising from lack of energy. 
That I had built simultaneously a fine store and an expensive 
dwelling was no mark of folly, for I could afford it. That I 
had reorganized the business, spread it out upon a new basis, 
doubled its capacity, and doubled its expenses, was no mark 
of folly, for every department, both mercantile and manufac- 
turing, was in a thriving condition. There was nothing about 
the establishment theoretical, fanciful, or speculative in char- 
acter. All was eminently practical, the result of natural 
growth. The business extended from British Columbia to 
Mexico, and over to the Hawaiian Islands, Japan, and China, 
and reports from the heads of the several departments showed 
its status every month. That it should successfully carry us 
through the trying time which was to follow, amply proves 
that its condition was not unsound, nor its establishment on 
such a basis impracticable. 

But evil days were at hand, following closely on the open- 
ing of the Pacific railway. This grand event, so ardently 
desired, and so earnestly advocated on both sides of the 
continent since the occupation of the country by Anglo- 
Americans, was celebrated as if the millennium had come ; 
and every one thought it had. There were many afterward 
who said they knew and affirmed it at the time that at first 
this road would bring nothing but financial disaster and ruin 
to California, but before such disaster and ruin came I for 
one heard nothing of its approach. On the contrary, though 
prices of real estate were already inflated, and the city had 
been laid out in homestead lots for a distance of ten miles 



84 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

round, and sold at rates suitable to a population of three mil- 
lions, the universal impression was that prices would go 
higher, and that every one on the completion of the railway- 
would be rich. But every one did not become rich. Every 
one wanted to sell, and could not, and there was a general 
collapse. For five years the best and most central property 
remained stationary, with scarcely a movement in all that 
time, while outside property fell in some cases to one-tenth 
of its former estimated value. 

Business was likewise revolutionized. As soon as the railway 
was in running order the attention of buyers throughout the 
country, large and small, was turned toward the east. " We 
can now purchase in New York as well as in San Francisco," 
they said, ^^ and save one profit." Consequently prices in 
San Francisco fell far below remunerative rates, and the ques- 
tion with our jobbers was, not whether they could make as 
much money as formerly, but whether they could do business 
at all. Some classes of business were obliged to succumb, 
and many merchants failed. Large stocks accumulated at 
low rates during the war, when currency was at a discount of 
from twenty-five to fifty per cent., were thrown upon the 
market, and prices of many articles ruled far below the cost 
of production. Thus, with heavy expenses and no profits, 
afiairs began to look ominous. At such times a large broadly 
extended business is much more unwieldy than a small one. 
Certain expenses are necessary; it is impossible to reduce 
them in proportion to the shrinkage of prices and the stag- 
nation of trade. 

More was yet to come. As all Califomians well know, th(i 
prosperity of a season depends on the rainfall. Sometimes 
the effects of one dry winter may be bridged over by a pros- 
perous year before and after. But when two or three dry 
seasons come together the result is most disastrous, and a 
year or two of favorable rains are usually required before the 
State entirely recovers. As if to try the endurance of our mer- 
chants to the utmost, three dry winters and five long years 
of hard times followed the opening of the railway. That so 



THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. 85 

many lived through them is the wonder. That my business 
especially did not fail, with such an accumulation of untoward 
circumstances, proved conclusively that it was sound and well 
managed. Building has ruined many a man ; I had built. 
Branching out has ruined many a man; I had branched. 
The fall in real estate, the revolution in profits incident to the 
opening of the railway, and the dry seasons, each of these 
severally has ruined many men. All these came upon me at 
one time, and yet the house lived through it. 

It may easily be seen that to draw one's mind from business 
at such a time and fix it on Uterary pursuits was no easy mat- 
ter. Cares, like flies, buzz perpetually in one's ears ; lock the 
door, and they creep in through invisible apertures. Yet I at- 
tempted it, though at first with indifferent success. The work 
on the fifth floor, hereafter to be described, was not always 
regarded with favor by those of the other floors. It drew 
money from the business, which remaining might be the means 
of saving it from destruction. It allured the attention of one 
whose presence might be the salvation of the establishment. 
After all it was but a hobby, and would result in neither profit 
nor honor. Of course I could do as I liked with my own, 
but was it not folly to jeopardize the life of the business to 
gain a few years of time for profitless work ? Would it not 
be better to wait till times were better, till money could be 
spared, and danger was passed ? 

Although the years of financial uncertainty that followed 
the completion of the railway were thus gloomy and depress- 
ing, yet I persisted. Day after day, and year after year, I 
lavished time and money in the vain attempt to accomplish 
I knew not what. It was something I desired to do, and I 
was determined to find out what it was, and then to do it if 
I could. Although my mind was in anything but a suitable 
condition for the task, I felt in no mood to wait. Every day 
or month or year delayed was so much taken from my life. 
My age — thirty-seven or thereabout — was somewhat ad- 
vanced for undertaking a literary work of great magnitude, 
and no time must be lost. Such was my infatuation that I 



86 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

would not have hesitated, any moment these dozen years, 
had the question arisen to abandon the business or my plan. 
I did not consider it right to bring disaster on others, but I 
never believed that such a result would follow my course. 
True, it is one thing to originate a business and quite another 
to maintain it; yet I felt that the heads of departments were 
competent to manage affairs, reporting to me every month. 
The business was paying well, and I would restrict my ex- 
penditure in every way rather than forego or delay a work 
which had become dearer to me than life. So I toiled on 
with greater or less success, oftentimes with a heavy heart 
and a heated brain, tired out, discouraged, not knowing if ever 
I should be permitted to complete anything I had under- 
taken, in which event all would be lost. 

In time, however, the clouds cleared away ; the wheels of 
business revolved with smoothness and regularity ; my work 
assumed shape, part of it was finished and praised ; letters 
of encouragement came pouring in like healthful breezes to 
the heated brow; I acquired a name, and all men smiled 
upon me. 



CHAPTER VII. 

FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 

Still am I besy bokes assemblynge ; 

For to have plenty, it is a pleasaunt thynge. — Brandt. 

IN 1859, one William H. Knight, then in my service as edi- 
tor and compiler of statistical works relative to the Pacific 
coast, was engaged in preparing the Hand- Book Ahiianac for 
the year i860. From time to time he asked me for certain 
books required for the work. It occurred to me that we 
should probably have frequent occasion to refer to books on 
California, Oregon, Washington, and Utah, and that it might 
be more convenient to have them altogether. I always had 
a taste, more pleasant than profitable, for publishing books, 
for conceiving a work and having it wrought out under my 
direction. To this taste may be attributed the origin of half 
the books published in California during the first twenty years 
of its existence as a State, if we except law reports, legislative 
proceedings, directories, and compilations of that character. 
Yet I have seldom published anything but law-books that did 
not result in a loss of money. Books for general reading, 
miscellaneous books in trade vernacular, even if intrinsically 
good, found few purchasers in California. The field was not 
large enough ; there were not enough book buyers to absorb 
an edition of any work, except a law-book, or a book intended 
as a working tool for a class. Lawyers like solid leverage, 
and in the absence of books they are powerless ; they cannot 
afibrd to be without them ; they buy them as mill-men buy 
stones to grind out toll withal. Physicians do not require so 
many books, but some have fine libraries. Two or three medi- 
cal books treating of climate and diseases peculiar to California 

87 



88 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

have been published in this country with tolerable success ; 
but the medical man is by no means so dependent on books 
as the man of law — that is to say, after he has once finished 
his studies and is established in practice. His is a profession 
dependent more on intuition and natural insight into charac- 
ter and causations, and above all, on a thorough understanding 
of the case, and the closest watchfulness in conducting it 
through intricate and ever-changing complications. Poetry 
has often been essayed in California, for the most part dog- 
gerel j yet should Byron come here and publish for the first 
time his Childe Harold^ it would not find buyers enough to 
pay the printer. Even Tuthill's History of California^ vigor- 
ously offered by subscription, did not return the cost of 
plates, paper, presswork, and binding. He who dances 
must pay the fiddler. Either the author or the publisher 
must make up his mind to remunerate the printer; the 
people will not till there are more of them, and with dif- 
ferent tastes. 

By having all the material on California together, so that 
I could see what had been done, I was enabled to form a 
clearer idea of what might be done in the way of book-pub- 
lishing on this coast. Accordingly I requested Mr. Knight 
to clear the shelves around his desk, and to them I transferred 
every book I could find in my stock having reference to this 
country. I succeeded in getting together some fifty or 
seventy-five volumes. This was the origin of my library, 
sometimes called the Pacific Library, but latterly the Ban- 
croft Library. I looked at the volumes thus brought to- 
gether, and remarked to Mr. Knight, " That is doing very 
well; I did not imagine there were so many." 

I thought no more of the matter till some time afterward, 
happening in at the bookstore of Epes Ellery, on Washington 
street, called antiquarian because he dealt in second-hand 
books, though of recent dates, my eyes lighted on some 
pamphlets, printed at different times in California, and it 
occurred to me to add them to the Pacific coast books over 
Mr. Knight's desk. This I did, and then examined more 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 89 

thoroughly the stocks of Ellery, Carrie and Damon, and the 
Noisy Carrier, and purchased one copy each of all the books, 
pamphlets, magazines, and pictures touching the subject. 
Afterward I found myself looking over the contents of other 
shops about town, and stopping at the stands on the side- 
walk, and buying any scrap of a kindred nature which I did 
not have. Frequently I would encounter old books in auc- 
tion stores, and pamphlets in lawyers' offices, which I imme- 
diately bought and added to my collection. The next time 
I visited the east, without taking any special trouble to seek 
them, I secured from the second-hand stores and bookstalls 
of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, whatever fell under 
my observation. 

Bibliomaniac I was not. Duplicates, fine bindings, and 
rare editions seemed to me of less importance than the 
subject-matter of the work. To collect books in an object- 
less, desultory manner is not profitable to either mind or 
purse. Book collecting without a purpose may be to some 
a fascinating pastime, but give it an object and you endow 
it with dignity. Not half the books printed are ever read; 
not half the books sold are bought to be read. Least of 
all in the rabid bibliomaniac need we look for the well-read 
man. It is true that thus far, and for years afterward, I 
had no well defined object, further than the original and 
insignificant one, in gathering these books; but with the 
growth of the collection came the purpose. Accident first 
drew me into it, and I continued the pastime with vague 
intent. " Very generally," says Herbert Spencer, " when a 
man begins to accumulate books he ceases to make much 
use of them " ; or, as Disraeli puts it : "A passion for col- 
lecting books is not always a passion for Hterature." 

I had a certain vague purpose at the beginning, though 
that was speedily overshadowed by the magnitude the mat- 
ter had assumed as the volumes increased. I recognized 
that nothing I could ever accomplish in the way of publish- 
ing would warrant such an outlay as I was then making. 
It w^as not long before any idea I may have entertained in 



go LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the way of pecuniary return was abandoned; there was no 
money in making the collection, or in any literary work con- 
nected with it. Yet certain books I knew to be intrinsi- 
cally valuable ; old, rare, and valuable books would increase 
rather than diminish in value, and as I came upon them 
from time to time I thought it best to secure all there were 
relating to this coast. After all the cost in money was not 
much; it was the time that counted; and the time, might 
it not be as profitable so spent as in sipping sugared water 
on the Paris boulevard, or in the insipid sv/eets of fashion- 
able society ? It was understood from the first that nothing 
in my collection was for sale; sometime, I thought, the 
whole might be sold to a library or public institution ; but 
I would wait, at least, until the collection was complete. 

I had now, perhaps, a thousand volumes, and began to 
be pretty well satisfied with my efibrts. When, however, in 
1862 I visited London and Paris, and rummaged the enor- 
mous stocks of second-hand books in the hundreds of stores 
of that class, my eyes began to open. I had much more yet 
to do. And so it was, when the collection had reached one 
thousand volumes I fancied I had them all ; when it had 
grown to five thousand I saw it was but begun. As my 
time was short I could then do little beyond glancing at the 
most important stocks and filhng a dozen cases or so ; but I 
determined as soon as I could command the leisure to make 
a thorough search all over Europe and complete my collection, 
if such a thing were possible, which now for the first time I seri- 
ously began to doubt. 

This opportunity occurred in 1866, when I was fortunate 
enough to have in every department others competent to take 
charge of the business. On the 17th of August I landed 
with my wife at Queenstown, spent a week in Dublin, passed 
from the Giant's causeway to Belfast and Edinburgh, and 
after the tour of the lakes proceeded to London. In Ireland 
and Scotland I found little or nothing; indeed I visited those 
countries for pleasure rather than for books. In London, 
however, the book mart of the world — as in fact it is the 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 9 1 

mart of most other things bought and sold — I might feed 
my desires to the full. 

During all this time my mind had dwelt more and more 
upon the subject, and the vague idea of merely collecting 
materials for history, which originally floated through my 
brain, began to assume more definite proportions, though I 
had no thought, as yet, of ever attempting to write history 
myself. But I was obliged to think more or less on the mat- 
ter in order to determine the limits of my collection. So 
far I had searched little for Mexican literature. Books on 
Lower California and northern Mexico I had bought, but 
Mexican history and archaeology proper had been passed 
over. Now the question arose, Where shall I draw the divid- 
ing line ? The history of California dates back to the days 
of Cortes; or more properly, it begins with the expeditions 
directed northward by Nuiio de Guzman, in 1530, and the 
gradual occupation, during two and a quarter centuries, of 
Nueva Galicia, Nueva Vizcaya, and the Californias. The 
deeds of Guzman, his companions, and his successors, the 
disastrous attempts of the great Hernan Cortes to explore the 
Pacific seaboard, and the spiritual conquests of the new lands 
by the Society of Jesus, I found recorded in surviving frag- 
ments of secular and ecclesiastical archives, in the numerous 
original papers of the Jesuit missionaries, and in the standard 
works of such writers as Mota Padilla, Ribas, Alegre, Frejes, 
Arricivita, and Beaumont, or, of Baja California especially, 
in Venegas, Clavigero, Baegert, and one or two important 
anonymous authorities. The Jesuits were good chroniclers ; 
their records, though diffuse, are very complete; and from 
them, by careful work, may be formed a satisfactory picture 
of the period they represent. 

Hence, to gather all the material requisite for a complete 
narrative of events bearing on California, it would be neces- 
sary to include a large part of the early history of Mexico, 
since the two were so blended as to make it impossible to 
separate them. This I ascertained in examining books for 
California material alone. It was my custom when collect- 



92 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ing to glance through any book which I thought might 
contain information on the territory marked out. I made 
it no part of my duty at this time to inquire into the nature 
or quahty of the production; it might be the soundest 
science or the sickhest of sentimental fiction. I did not 
stop to consider, I did not care, whether the book was 
of any value or not; it was easier and cheaper to buy it 
than to spend time in examining its value. Besides, in 
making such a collection it is impossible to determine at 
a glance what is of value and what is not. The most 
worthless trash may prove some fact wherein the best book 
is deficient, and this makes the trash valuable. In no other 
way could I have made the collection so speedily perfect; 
so perfect, indeed, that I have often been astonished, in 
writing on a subject or an epoch, to find how few impor- 
tant books were lacking. An investigator should have be- 
fore him all that has been said upon his subject; he will 
then make such use of it as his judgment dictates. Nearly 
every work in existence, or which was referred to by the 
various authorities, I found on my shelves. And this was 
the result of my method of collecting, which was to buy 
everything I could obtain, with the view of winnowing the 
information at my leisure. 

Gradually and almost imperceptibly had the area of my 
efforts enlarged. From Oregon it was but a step to British 
Columbia and Alaska; and as I was obliged for authorities 
on California to go to Mexico and Spain, it finally became 
settled to my mind to make the western half of North Amer- 
ica my field, including in it the whole of Mexico and Cen- 
tral America. And thereupon I searched the histories of 
Europe for information concerning their New World rela- 
tions; and the archives of Spain, Italy, France, and Great 
Britain were in due time examined. 

In London I spent about three months, and went faithfully 
through every catalogue and every stock of books likely to 
contain anything on the Pacific coast. Of these there were 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 93 

several score, new and old. It was idle to enter a shop and 
ask the keeper if he had any works on California, Mexico, or 
the Hawaiian islands : the answer was invariably No. And 
though I might pick up half a dozen books under his very 
eyes, the answer would still be, if you asked him, No. Cali- 
fornia is a long way from London, much farther than London 
is from California. None but a very intelligent bookseller 
in London knows where to look for printed information con- 
cerning California. The only way is to examine catalogues 
and search through stocks, trusting to no one but yourself. 

Believing that a bibliography of the Pacific States would 
not only greatly assist me in my search for books but would 
also be a proper thing to publish some day, I employed a man 
to search the principal libraries, such as the library of the 
British Museum and the library of the Royal Geographical 
Society, and make a transcript of the title of every book, 
manuscript, pamphlet, and magazine article, touching this 
territory, with brief notes or memoranda on the subject-mat- 
ter. It was necessary that the person employed should be a 
good scholar, familiar with books, and have at his command 
several languages. The person employed was Joseph Walden, 
engaged by my agent, J. Whitaker, proprietor of The Book- 
seller^ who also superintended the work, which was continued 
during the three months I remained in London, and for about 
eight months thereafter. The titles and abstracts were en- 
tered upon paper cards about four inches square ; or, if one 
work contained more matter than could be properly de- 
scribed within that space, the paper would be cut in strips of 
a uniform width, but of the requisite length, and folded to 
the uniform size. The cost of this catalogue was a little over 
a thousand dollars. In consulting material in these libraries, 
which contain much that exists nowhere else, this list is in- 
valuable as a guide to the required information. It might 
be supposed that the printed catalogues of the respective 
libraries would give their titles in such a way. as to designate 
the contents of the works listed, but this is not always the 
case. The plan adopted by me was to have any book or 



94 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

manuscript, and all periodicals and journals of societies, likely 
to contain desired information, carefully examined, the leaves 
turned over one by one, and notes made of needed material. 
By this means I could at once learn where the material was, 
what it was, and turn to the book and page. 

From London I went to Paris, and searched the stalls, an- 
tiquarian warehouses, and catalogues, in the same careful 
manner. I found much material obtainable in no other way, 
but it was small in comparison with what I had secured in 
London. Dibdin speaks of a house in Paris, the Debures, 
bibliopolists, dealers in rare books, who would never print a 
catalogue. It was not altogether folly that prompted the 
policy, for obvious reasons. Leaving Paris the 3d of January, 
1867, I proceeded to Spain, full of sanguine anticipations. 
There I expected to find much relating to Mexico at the stalls 
for old books, but soon learned that everything of value found 
its way to London. It has been said that in London articles 
of any description will bring a price nearer their true value 
than anywhere else in the world. This I know to be true 
of books. I have in my library little old worthless-looking 
volumes that cost me two or three hundred dollars each in 
London, and which, if offered at auction in San Francisco, 
would sell for twenty-five or fifty cents, unless some intelligent 
persons who understood books happened to be present, in 
which case competition might raise the price to five dollars. 
On the other hand, that which cost a half dollar in London 
might sell for five dollars in San Francisco. 

There were not three men in California, I venture to say, 
who at that time knew anything either of the intrinsic or 
marketable value of old books. Booksellers knew the least. 
I certainly have had experience both as dealer and as collec- 
tor, but I profess to know little about the value of ancient 
works, other than those which I have had occasion to buy. 
Let me pick up a volume of the Latin classics, for example, 
or of Dutch voyages, and ask the price. If the book were as 
large as I could lift, and the shopman told me half a crown, 
I should think it much material for the money, and I should 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 95 

not question the integrity of the shopman ; if the book were 
small enough for the vest pocket, and the seller charged me 
twenty pounds for it, I should think it right, and that there 
must be real value about it in some way, otherwise the man 
would not ask so much. There may be six or eight dealers 
in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, who know something 
of the value of ancient books ; but aside from these, among 
the trade throughout America, I doubt if there are three. A 
collector, devoting himself to a specialty, may learn something 
by experience, by looking over his bills and paying them, re- 
garding the value of books in the direction of his collecting, 
but that must be a small part of the whole range of the science 
of bibliography. 

I thought the London shopkeepers were sufficiently apa- 
thetic, but they are sprightly in comparison with the Spanish 
bookseller. To the average Spanish bookseller Paris and 
London are places bordering on the mythical; if he really 
believes them to exist, they are mapped in his mind with the 
most vague indistinctness. As to a knowledge of books 
and booksellers' shops in those places, there are but few 
pretensions. 

Opening on the main plaza of Burgos, which was filled 
with some of the most miserable specimens of muffled 
humanity I ever encountered — cutthroat, villainous-looking 
men and women in robes of sewed rags — were two small 
shops, in which not only books and newspapers were sold, 
but traps and trinkets, of various kinds. There I found a 
few pamphlets which spoke of Mexico. Passing through a 
Californian-looking country we entered Madrid, the town of 
tobacco and bull-fights. If bookselling houses are signifi- 
cant of the intelligence of the people, then culture in Spain 
is at a low ebb. 

The first three days in Madrid I spent in collecting and 
studying catalogues. Of these I found but few, and all con- 
taining about the same class of works. Then I searched the 
stalls and stores, and gathered more than at one time I 
thought I should find, sufficient to fill two large boxes; but 



g6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

to accomplish this I was obliged to work diligently for two 
weeks. 

To Saragossa, Barcelona, Marseilles, Nice, Genoa, Bo- 
logna, Florence, and Rome ; then to Naples, back to Venice, 
and through Switzerland to Paris. After resting a while I 
went to Holland, then up the Rhine and through Germany 
to Vienna; then through Germany and Switzerland again, 
Paris and London, and finally back to New York and Buf- 
falo. Everywhere I found something, and seized upon it, 
however insignificant, for I had long since ceased to resist 
the malady. Often have I taken a cab or a carriage to drive 
me from stall to stall all day, without obtaining more than 
perhaps three or four books or pamphlets, for which I paid 
a shilling or a franc apiece. Then again I would light upon 
a valuable manuscript which relieved my pocket to the ex- 
tent of three, five, or eight hundred dollars. 

Now, I thought, my task is done. I have rifled America 
of its treasures; Europe have I ransacked; and after my 
success in Spain, Asia and Africa may as well be passed by. 
I have ten thousand volumes and over, fifty times more than 
ever I dreamed were in existence when the collecting began. 
My hbrary is a/^// accompli. Here will I rest. 

But softly ! What is this inch-thick pamphlet that comes to 
me by mail from my agent in London ? By the shade of 
Tom Dibdin, it is a catalogue ! Stripping off the cover I read 
the title-page : Catalogue de la Riche Bibliotheqtie de D, Jose 
Afaria Andrade, Livres 7nanuscrils et imprimes, Litterature 
Frangaise et Espag7iole. Histoire de L'Afriqtie, de L'Asie, et 
de L^Ameriqiie. *jooo pieces et volumes ayant rapport au 
Mexique on i?nprimes dans ce pays, Dont la vente sefera 
Lundi, 1 8 Janvier^ iSog, et jours suivants^ a Leipzig^ dans la 
salle de ventes de MM, List df Francke, i^ rue de F Univer- 
site\par le ministere de M, Hermanii Francke, co?n??iissai?'e 
priseiir. 

Seven thousand books direct from Mexico, and probably 
half of them works which should be added to my collection ! 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 97 

What was to be done ? Here were treasures beside which 
the gold, silver, and rich merchandise found by AH Baba 
in the robbers' cave were dross. A new light broke in upon 
me. I had never considered that Mexico had been printing 
books for three and a quarter centuries — one hundred years 
longer than Massachusetts — and that the earlier works were 
seldom seen floating about book-stalls and auction-rooms. 
One would think, perhaps, that in Mexico there might be a 
rich harvest ; that where the people were ignorant and indif- 
erent to learning, books would be lightly esteemed, and a 
large collection easily made. And such at times and to some 
extent has been the case, but it is not so now. It is charac- 
teristic of the Mexican, to say nothing of the Yankee, that 
an article which may before have been deemed worthless, 
suddenly assumes great value when one tries to buy it. The 
common people, seeing the priests and collectors place so 
high an estimate on these embodiments of knowledge, invest 
them with a sort of supernatural importance, place them 
among their Lares and Penates, and refuse to part with them 
at any price. Besides, Mexico as well as other countries has 
been overrun with book collectors. In making his collec- 
tion Senor Andrade had occupied forty years; and being 
upon the spot, with every faciHty, ample means at his com- 
mand, a thorough knowledge of the literature of the country, 
and familiarity with the places in which books and manu- 
scripts were most likely to be found, he surely should have 
been able to accomplish what no other man could. 

And then again, rare books are every year becoming rarer. 
In England particularly this is the case. Important sales are 
not so frequent now as fifty years ago, when a gentleman's 
library, which at his death was sold at auction for the benefit of 
heirs, almost always ofiered opportunities for securing some rare 
books. Then, at the death of one, another would add to his 
collection, and at his death another, and so on. During the 
past half century many new public libraries have been formed 
both in Europe and America, until the number has become 
very large. These, as a rule, are deficient in rare books ; but 
7 



98 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

having with age and experience accumulated funds and the 
knowledge of using them, or having secured all desirable 
current literature, the managers of public libraries are more 
and more desirous of enriching their collections with the 
treasures of the past ; and as institutions seldom or never die, 
when once a book finds lodgment on their shelves the auc- 
tioneer rarely sees it again. Scores of libraries in America 
have their agents, with lists of needed books in their hands, 
ready to pay any price for any one of them. Since there is 
but a Umited number of these books in existence, with a 
dozen bidders for every one, they are becoming scarcer and 
dearer every year. 

There were no fixed prices for rare and ancient books in 
Mexico, and they were seldom or never to be obtained in the 
ordinary way of trade. Until recently, to make out a list of 
books and expect a bookseller of that country to procure 
them for you was absurd, and you would be doomed to dis- 
appointment. It was scarcely to be expected that he should 
be so much in advance of his bookselling brother of Spain, 
who would scarcely leave his seat to serve you with a book 
from his own shelves, still less to seek it elsewhere. 

Book collecting in Mexico at the period of my visit was a 
trade tomhe des nues, the two parties to the business being, 
usually, one a professional person, representing the guardian- 
ship of learning, and the other the recipient of his favors. 
The latter, ascertaining the whereabouts of the desired vol- 
ume, bargained with a politician, an ecclesiastic, or a go- 
between, and having agreed on the price, the place and time 
were named — which must be a retired spot and an hour in 
which the sun did not shine — whereupon the book was pro- 
duced and the money paid; but there must be no further 
conversation regarding the matter. Should the monastic 
libraries occasionally be found deficient in volumes once in 
their possession, in the absence of catalogues and responsible 
librarians their loss could not be charged to the guardian. 

Jose Maria Andrade combined in himself the publisher, 
joumaKst, litterateur^ bibHopole, and bibhophile ; and the te- 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 99 

nacity with which he clung to his collection was remarkable. 
Nor was he induced to part with it except for the consumma- 
tion of a grand purpose. It was ever the earnest desire of 
the unfortunate Maximilian to advance the interests of the 
country in every way in his power ; and prominent among 
his many praiseworthy designs was that of improving the 
mental condition of the people. No sooner had he estab- 
lished himself in the government than he began the formation 
of an imperial library. This could not be better accomplished 
than by securing the collection of Senor Andrade, while the 
intelligent and zealous collector in no other way could reap 
a reward commensurate with his long and diligent researches. 
It was therefore aiTanged that, in consideration of a certain 
sum to be paid the owner of the books, this magnificent col- 
lection should form the basis of a Biblioteca Imperial de Me- 
Jico, But unfortunately for Mexico this was not to be. The 
books were to be scattered among the libraries of the world, 
and the rare opportunity was forever lost. Evil befell both 
emperor and bibliophile. The former met the fate of many 
another adventurer of less noble birth and less chivalrous and 
pure intention, and the latter failed to secure his money. 

When it became certain that Maximilian was doomed to 
die at the hands of his captors, Andrade determined to se- 
cure to himself the proceeds from the sale of his library as 
best he might. Nor was there any time to lose, for the friends 
of the emperor could scarcely hope to see their contracts rati- 
fied by his successor. Consequently, while all eyes were 
turned in the direction of Queretaro, immediately after the 
enactment of that bloody tragedy, and before the return wave 
of popular fury and vandalism had reached the city of Mex- 
ico, Andrade hastily packed his books into two hundred 
cases, placed them on the backs of mules, and hurried them 
to Vera Cruz, and thence across the water to Europe. 

Better for Mexico had the bibliophile taken with him one 
of her chief cities than that mule-train load of hterature, 
wherein for her were stores of mighty experiences, which, 
left to their own engendering, would in due time bring forth 



lOO LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

healing fruits. Never since the burning of the Aztec manu- 
scripts by the bigot Zumarraga had there fallen on the coun- 
try such a loss. 

Says M. Deschamps of the Andrade collection: "The 
portion of this library relating to Mexico is incontestably 
unique, and constitutes a collection which neither the most 
enlightened care, the most patient investigation, nor the 
gold of the richest placers could reproduce. The incuna- 
bula of American typography, six Gothic volumes head the 
list, printed from 1543 to 1547, several of which have re- 
mained wholly unknown to bibliographers; then follows a 
collection of documents, printed and in manuscript, by the 
help of which the impartial writer may reestablish on its 
true basis the history of the firm domination held by Spain 
over these immense territories, from the time of Cortes to 
the glorious epoch of the wars of Independence. The 
manuscripts are in part original and in part copies of val- 
uable documents made with great care from the papers pre- 
served in the archives of the empire at Mexico. It is well 
known that access to these archives is invariably refused to 
the public, and that it required the sovereign intervention 
of an enlightened prince to render possible the long labors 
of transcription." 

Such is the history of the collection of which I now re- 
ceived a catalogue, with notice of sale beginning the 1 8th of 
January, 1869. Again I asked myself. What was to be done ? 
Little penetration was necessary to see that this sale at Leip- 
sic was most important ; that such an opportunity to secure 
Mexican books never had occurred before and could never 
occur again. It was not among the possibilities that Seiior 
Andrade's catalogue should ever be duplicated. The time 
was too short for me to reach Leipsic in person; yet I w^as 
determined not to let the opportunity slip without securing 
something, no matter at what hazard or at what sacrifice. 

Shutting my eyes to the consequences, therefore, I did the 
only thing possible under the circumstances to secure a portion 
of that collection : I telegraphed my agent in London five 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. lOI 

thousand dollars earnest money, with instructions to attend 
the sale and purchase at his discretion. I expected nothing 
else than large lots of duplicates, with many books which I 
did not care for ; but in this I was agreeably disappointed. 
Though my agent, Mr. Whitaker, was not very familiar with 
the contents of my library, he was a practical man, and 
thoroughly versed in the nature and value of books, and the 
result of his purchase was to enrich my collection with some 
three thousand of the rarest and most valuable volumes 
extant. 

There were, of course, in this purchase a certain number 
of duplicates, and some books bought only for their rarity, 
such as specimens of the earliest printing in Mexico, and cer- 
tain costly linguistic works. But on the whole I was more 
than pleased ; I was delighted. A sum five times larger than 
the cost of the books would not have taken them from me, 
for the simple reason that though I should live a hundred 
years I would not see the time when I could buy any con- 
siderable part of them at any price. And furthermore, no 
sooner had I settled down to authorship than experience 
taught me that the works thus collected and sold by Senor 
Andrade included foreign books of the highest importance. 
There were among them many books and manuscripts invalu- 
able for a working library. It seemed after all as though Mr. 
Whitaker had instinctively secured what was most wanted, 
allowing very few of the four thousand four hundred and 
eighty-four numbers of the catalogue to slip through his fin- 
gers that I would myself have purchased if present in person. 

But this was not the last of the Andrade- Maximilian 
episode. Another lot, not so large as the Leipsic catalogue, 
but enough to constitute a very important sale, was disposed 
of by auction in London, by Puttick and Simpson, in June 
of the same year. The printed Hst was entitled : Bibliotheca 
Mejicajia, A Catalogue of ait extraordinary collection of books 
relati?ig to Mexico and North aiid South America^ from the 
first introduction of printing in the New World, A, D, 1544, 
to A, £>, 1868. Collected during 20 years' official 7'eside?2ce in 



102 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Mexico, Mr. Whitaker likewise attended this sale for me, 
and from his purchases I was enabled still further to fill gaps 
and perfect the collection. 

Prior to these large purchases, namely in December, 1868, 
Mr. Whitaker made some fine selections for me at a public 
sale in Paris. This same year was sold in New York the 
library of A. A. Smet, and the year previous had been sold 
that of Richard W. Roche. The library of George W. Pratt 
was sold in New York in March, 1868; that of Amos Dean, 
at private sale, in New York the same year; that of W. L. 
Mattison in New York in April, 1869; that of John A. Rice 
in New York in March, 1870; that of S. G. Drake in Boston 
in May and June, 1876; that of John W. Dwinelle in San 
Francisco in July, 1877; that of George T. Strong in New 
York in November, 1878; that of Milton S. Latham in San 
Francisco in April, 1879; that of Gideon N. Searing in New 
York in May, 1880; that of H. R. Schoolcraft in New York 
in November, 1880; that of A. Oakey Hall in New York in 
January, 1881; that of J. L. Hasmar in Philadelphia in 
March, 1881; that of George Brinley in New York at dif- 
ferent dates; that of W. B. Lawrence in New York in 1881-2; 
that of the Sunderland Library, first part, in London in 1881; 
that of W. C. Prescott in New York in December, 1881; 
and that of J. G. Keil in Leipsic in 1882; — from each of 
which I secured something. Besides those elsewhere enu- 
merated there were to me memorable sales in Lisbon, New 
York, and London, in 1870; in London and New York in 
1872; in Paris, Leipsic, and New York, in 1873, and in New 
York in 1877. The several sales in London of Henry G. 
Bohn, retiring from business, were also important. 

The government officials in Washington and the officers 
of the Smithsonian Institution have always been very kind 
and liberal to me, as have the Pacific coast representatives in 
Congress. From members of the Canadian cabinet and parha- 
ment I have received valuable additions to my library. From 
the many shops of Nassau street. New York, and from several 
stores and auction sales in Boston, I have been receiving 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 103 

constant additions to my collection for a period of over a 
quarter of a century. 

From the Librairie Tross of Paris in April, 1870, 1 obtained 
a long list of books, selected from a catalogue. So at various 
times I have received accessions from Maisonneuve et O^, 
Paris, notably a considerable shipment in September, 1878. 
From Triibner, Quaritch, Rowell, and others, in London, the 
stream was constant, though not large, for many years. 
Asher of Berlin managed to offer at various times valuable 
catalogues, as did also John Russell Smith of London; F. 
A. Brockhaus of Leipsic; Murguia of Mexico, and Madrilena 
of Mexico; MuUer of Amsterdam; Weigel of Leipsic; 
Robert Clarke & Co. of Cincinnati; Scheible of Stuttgart; 
Bouton of New York; Henry Miller of New York, and 
Olivier of Bruxelles. Henry Stevens of London sold in 
Boston, through Leonard, by auction in April, 1870, a col- 
lection of five thousand volumes of American history, cata- 
logued under the title of Bibliotheca Historica, at which time 
he claimed to have fifteen thousand similar volumes stored 
at 4 Trafalgar square. 

In April, 1876, was sold by auction in New York the col- 
lection of Mr. E. G. Squier, relating in a great measure to 
Central America, where the collector, when quite young, w^as 
for a time United States minister. A man of letters, the 
author of several books, and many essays and articles on 
ethnology, history, and politics, and a member of home and 
foreign learned societies, Mr. Squier was enabled by his posi- 
tion to gratify his tastes to their full extent, and he availed 
himself of the opportunity. His library was rich in manu- 
scripts, in printed and manuscript maps, and in Central 
American newspapers, and political and historical pamphlets. 
There were some fine original drawings by Catherwood 
of ruins and monolith idols, and some desirable engravings 
and photographs. Books from the library of Alexander Von 
Humboldt were a feature, and there was a section on Scan- 
dinavian literature. In regard to his manuscripts, which he 
intended to translate and print, the publication of Falacio, 



104 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Cartas^ being the beginning, Mr. Squier said : " A large part 
of these were obtained from the various Spanish archives and 
depositories by my friend Buckingham Smith, late secretary 
of the legation of the United States in Spain. Others were 
procured during my residence in Central America either in 
person or through the intervention of friends.'* I gladly 
availed myself of the opportunity to purchase at this sale 
whatever the collection contained that was lacking in my 
library. Of the Squier library Mr. Sabin testified : " In the 
department relative to Central America the collection is not 
surpassed by any other within our knowledge; many of 
these books being published in Central America, and having 
rarely left the land of their birth, are of great value, and are 
almost unknown outside the localities from which they were 
issued." 

The next most important opportunity was the sale, by 
auction, of the library of Caleb Cushing in Boston, in Oc- 
tober, 1879. This was attended for me by Mr. Lauriat, and 
the result was in every way satisfactory. 

Quite a remarkable sale was that of the library of Ramirez, 
by auction, in London in July, 1880, not so much in regard 
to numbers, for there were but 1290, as in variety and prices. 
The title of the catalogue reads as follows : Bibliotheca Mex- 
icana, A catalogue of the Library of rare books and hnporta^it 
manuscripts^ relating to Mexico and other parts of Spanish 
Afnerica^ forfned by the late Senor Don Jose Fernando Ra- 
mirez, president of the late Emperor Maxi??iilian'' s first ?ninis- 
try, coinprising fine specimejts of the presses of the early Mex- 
ican typographers, Juan Cromberger, Juan Pablos, Antonio 
Espinosa, Pedro Ocharte, Pedro Balli, Afitonio Ricardo, Mel- 
chior Ocharte ; a large number of works, both printed and 
manuscript, on the Mexican Indian languages and dialects ; 
the civil and ecclesiastical history of Mexico and its provinces ; 
collectio7is of laws and ordinances relating to the Indies, Val- 
uable unpublished manuscripts relating to the Jesuit missions 
ifi Texas, California, China, Peru, Chili, Brazil, etc.; collec- 
tions of documents ; sermons preached in Mexico ; etc, etc. 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. 105 

Ramirez was a native of the city of Durango, where he had 
been educated and admitted to the bar, rising to eminence as 
state and federal judge. He was at one time head of the 
national museum of Mexico ; also minister of foreign affairs, 
and again president of Maximihan's first ministry. After the 
withdrawal of the French he went to Europe and took up his 
residence at Bonn, where he died in 187 1. The books com- 
prising the sale formed the second collection made by this 
learned bibliographer, the first having become the foundation 
of a state library in the city of Durango. The rarest works 
of the first collection were reserved, however, as a nucleus for 
the second, which was formed after he removed to the capital. 
His high public position, his reputation as scholar and bibliog- 
rapher, and his widely extended influence afforded him the 
best facilities. Many of his literary treasures were obtained 
from the convents after the suppression of the monastic orders. 
From the collection, as it stood at the death of Ramirez, his 
heirs permitted A. Chavero to select all works relating to 
Mexico. " We believe we do not exaggerate," the sellers 
affirmed, " when we say that no similar collection of books 
can again be brought into the English market." 

This opinion was endorsed by Mr. Whitaker, who wrote to 
me in 1869 regarding the Paris and London sales of that 
year : " If I may argue from analogy, I do not think that 
many more Mexican books will come to Europe for sale. I 
remember some twenty-five years ago a similar series of sales 
of Spanish books which came over here in consequence of 
the revolution, but for many years there have been none to 
speak of." Thus we find the same idea expressed by an ex- 
pert eleven years before the Ramirez sale. In one sense both 
opinions proved true ; the collections were different in char- 
acter, and neither of them could be even approximately 
dupKcated. With regard to prices at the sales of 1869 Mr. 
Whitaker remarks: "Some of the books sold rather low 
considering their rarity and value, but on the whole prices 
ruled exceedingly high." Had Mr. Whitaker attended the 
Ramirez sale he would have been simply astounded. If ever 



I06 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the prices of Mexican books sold prior to this memorable 
year of 1880 could in comparison be called high, such sales 
have been wholly outside of my knowledge. I had before 
paid hundreds of dollars for a thin i2mo volume; but a bill 
wherein page after page the items run from $50 to $700 is 
apt to call into question the general sanity of mankind. And 
yet this was at public sale, in the chief book mart of the 
world, and it is to be supposed that the volumes were sold 
with fairness. 

Notice of this sale, with catalogue, was forwarded to me 
by Mr. Stevens, who attended it in my behalf. I made out 
my list and sent it on with general instructions, but without 
special limit ; I did not suppose the whole lot would amount 
to over $10,000 or $12,000. The numbers I ordered brought 
nearer $30,000. Mr. Stevens did not purchase them all, pre- 
ferring to forego his commissions rather than subject me to 
such fearfully high prices. My chief consolation in drawing 
a check for the purchase was that if books were worth the 
prices brought at the Ramirez sale the value of my library 
must be a million of dollars. And yet Mr. Stevens writes : 
" On the whole you have secured your lots very reasonably. 
A few are dear; most of them are cheap. The seven or 
eight lots that you put in your third class, and which Mr. 
Quaritch or Count Heredia bought over my bids, you may 
rest assured went dear enough.'' There were scarcely any 
purchasers other than the three bidders above named, though 
Mr. Stevens held orders likewise for the British Museum 
library. There was no calling off or hammering by the auc- 
tioneer. The bidders sat at a table on which was placed the 
book to be sold ; each made his bid and the seller recorded 
the highest. 

Thus it was that in 1869, after the MaximiHan sale, but 
before those of Ramirez, Squier, and many others, I found in 
my possession, including pamphlets, about sixteen thousand 
volumes; and with these, which even before its completion 
I placed on the fifth floor of the Market-street building, I 
decided to begin work. As a collector, however, I con- 



FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE. I07 

tinued lying in wait for opportunities. All the new books 
published relative to the subject were immediately added to 
the collection, with occasional single copies, or little lots of 
old books secured by my agents. Before leaving Europe I 
appointed agents in other principal cities besides London to 
purchase, as opportunity offered, whatever I lacked. There 
were many other notable additions to the library from sources 
not yet mentioned, of which I shall take occasion to speak 
in later chapters of this volume. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE LIBRARY. 

Could a man be secure 

That his days would endure 

As of old, for a thousand long years, 

What things might he know ! 

What deeds might he do ! 

And all without hurry or care. 

—Old Song. 

IF as Plato says knowledge is goodness, and goodness God, 
then libraries occupy holy ground, and books breathe the 
atmosphere of heaven. Although this philosophy may be too 
transcendental for the present day, and although the agency 
of evil sometimes appears in the storing of knowledge as well 
as the agency of good, thus making scholars not always heirs 
of God, we have yet to learn of a collection of books having 
been made for purposes of evil, or the results of such efforts 
ever having been otherwise than beneficial to the race. Par- 
ticularly is such the case where the main incentive has been 
the accumulation of facts for the mere love of such accumu- 
lation, and not from devotion to dogma, or for the purpose 
of pleading a cause — for something of the instinct of accu- 
mulation inherent in humanity may be found in the garnering 
of knowledge, no less than in the gathering of gold or the 
acquisition of broad acres. 

My library, when first it came to be called a library, occu- 
pied one corner of the second story of the bookstore building 
on Merchant street, which connected with the front room on 
Montgomery street, as before described. When placed on 
the fifth floor of the Market-street building, it occupied room 
equivalent to thirty-five by one hundred and seventy feet, 

io8 



THE LIBRARY. 



109 



being about fifty feet wide at the south end, and narrowing 
irregularly towards the north end. The ceiling was low, and 
the view broken by the enclosures under the skylights, and 
by sections of standing supports with which it was found 
necessary to supplement the half-mile and more of shelving 
against the walls. Following the works of reference, the 
books were arranged alphabetically by authors, some seventy- 
five feet at the north end, both walls and floor room being 
left for newspapers. On the east side were four rooms, two 
occupied as sleeping apartments by Mr. Oak and Mr. Nemos, 
and two used as working rooms by Mrs. Victor and myself. 
There was one large draughtsman's working-counter, with 
drawers, and a rack for maps. The desks and writing tables 
stood principally at the south end of the main library room, 
that being the best locality for light and air. A large, high, 
revolving table occupied the centre of my room. Attached 
to it was a stationary stand into which it fitted, or rather of 
which it formed part. At this table I could stand, or by 
means of a high chair with revolving seat I could sit, and 
write on the stationary part. The circular or revolving por- 
tion of the table was some eight or nine feet in diameter. 
Besides this there were usually two or three common plain 
tables in the room. On the walls were maps, and drawings of 
various kinds, chiefly referring to early history; also certificates 
of degrees conferred, and of membership of learned societies. 

In the main room, in addition to long tables, there were a 
dozen or so small movable tables, and also a high table and 
a high desk, the two accommodating four or five persons, 
should any wish to stand. All was well arranged, not only 
for literary but for mechanical work, for close at hand were 
compositors, printers, and binders. No place could better 
have suited my purpose, except for interruptions, for I was 
never entirely free from business. 

Yet, all through the dozen years the library was there I 
trembled for its safety through fear of fire, as indeed did 
many others who appreciated its historical value to this coast, 
well knowing that once lost no power on earth could repro- 



no LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

duce it. Hence its place in this building was regarded as 
temporary from the first. We all thought constantly of it, 
and a hundred times I talked over the question of removal 
with Mr. Oak and others. Now and then the danger would 
be more vividly brought home to us by an alarm of fire on 
the premises ; and once in particular, when a fire broke out 
in the basement of a furniture store occupying the western 
side of the building, filling the library with dense smoke, and 
driving the inmates to the roof. The furniture store was 
almost destroyed, and the bookstore suffered serious damage. 
It was a narrow escape for the library. 

Thus, when in the autumn of 1881 William B. Bancroft, 
my nephew, in charge of the manufacturing department, 
required the use of the floor for his increasing business, and 
as the money could be spared, I lent a willing ear. 

First to be considered in choosing a new locality was 
whether the library should remain on the peninsula of San 
Francisco, or take its place at some point across the bay. 
Oakland was seriously considered, and San Rafael, not to 
mention Sonoma, where, long before, my enthusiastic friend, 
General Vallejo, had offered to furnish land and all the build- 
ing requirements free. There were pleasant places in the 
direction of San Mateo and Menlo Park; but we finally con- 
cluded to remain in the city. 

After some search a place was found uniting several ad- 
vantages, and which on the whole proved satisfactory. It 
was on Valencia street, the natural continuation of Market 
street, on the line of the city's growth, and reached by the 
same line of cars which passed the store. There, on the west 
side, near its junction with Mission street, I purchased a lot 
one hundred and twenty by one hundred and twenty-six feet, 
and proceeded forthwith to erect a substantial two story and 
basement brick structure forty by sixty feet. In order that 
the building might be always detached it was placed in the 
centre of the lot, and to make it more secure from fire all the 
openings were covered with iron. A high fence was erected 
on two sides for protection against the wind, and the grounds 



THE LIBRARY. Ill 

were planted with trees, grass, and flowers. On the door was 
placed a plate lettered in plain script, The Bancroft 
Library. 

The building proved most satisfactory. No attempt was 
made at elaboration, either without or within ; neatness and 
good taste, with comfort and convenience, were alone aimed 
at. Every part of it was ordered with an eye single to the 
purpose; the rooms are spacious, there are plenty of large 
windows, and the building is well ventilated. From the front 
door the main room, lower floor, is entered, which, though 
almost without a break in its original construction, became at 
once so crowded as to render its proper representation in a 
drawing impossible. Ample space, as was supposed, had 
been allowed in planning the building, but such a collection 
of books is susceptible of being expanded or contracted to a 
wonderful extent. On the wall shelves of this apartment are 
sets and collections aggregating 16,000 volumes. The sets 
are conveniently lettered and numbered, in a manner that 
renders each work readily accessible, as will be described in 
detail elsewhere. They consist of collections of voyages and 
travels ; of documents, periodicals, legislative and other public 
papers of the federal government and the several states and 
territories of the Pacific slope ; of law-books, statutes, briefs, 
and legal reports ; series of scrap-books, almanacs, directories, 
bound collections of pamphlets, cumbersome folios, Mexi- 
can sermons, papeles varios, and other miscellaneous matter. 
Three lofty double tiers of shelving, extending across the room 
from north to south, are loaded with 500 bulky files of Pacific 
states newspapers, amounting, if a year of weeklies and three 
months of dailies be accounted a volume, to over 5000 volumes. 
It is a somewhat unwieldy mass, but indispensable to the local 
historian. Also was built and placed here a huge case, with 
drawers for maps, geographically arranged ; also cases con- 
taining the card index, and paper bags of notes, all of which 
are explained elsewhere. 

To the room above, the main library and working-room, 
the entrance is by a staircase rising from the middle of the 



112 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

first floor. Here, seated at tables, are a dozen literary work- 
men, each busy with his special task. The walls are filled 
with shelving nine tiers high, containing four classes of books. 
Most of the space is occupied by works of the first class, 
the working library proper of printed books, alphabetically 
arranged, each volume bearing a number, and the numbers 
running consecutively from one to 12,000 under alphabetical 
arrangement, and afterward without arrangement, as addi- 
tions are made indefinitely. The second class consists of rare 
books, of about 400 volumes, set apart by reason of their 
great value, not merely pecuniary, though the volumes will 
bring from $35 to $800 each in the book markets of the 
world, but for their literary value, as standard authorities, 
bibliographic curiosities, specimens of early printing, and 
rare linguistics. The third class is composed entirely of 
manuscripts, in 1200 volumes of three subdivisions, relating 
respectively to Mexico and Central America, to California, 
and to the Northwest Coast — the Oregon and interior 
territory, British Columbia, and Alaska. The fourth class is 
made up of 450 works of reference and bibliographies. 
When the collection was placed in the library building it 
numbered 35,000 volumes, since which time additions have 
steadily been made, until the number now approaches 
50,000. On the eastern side of the upper room is situated 
my private apartment, while at the opposite side are other 
rooms. All otherwise unoccupied wall space, above and 
below, is filled with portraits, plans, drawings, engravings, 
and curios, all having reference to the territory covered by 
the collection. • " 

Considerable inconvenience had been experienced during 
the past twelve years' use of the library, for want of proper 
numbering and cataloguing. Mr. Oak had made a card 
catalogue which about the time of removal to Market street 
was copied in book form ; but though the former kept pace 
with the increase of books, the latter was soon out of date. 
For a time an alphabetical arrangement answered every pur- 



THE LIBRARY. II3 

pose, but under this system books were so often out of place, 
and losses so frequent, that it was deemed best on removing 
to Valencia street to adopt a book-mark, a system of number- 
ing, and make a new catalogue. The book-mark consisted 
of a lithographed line in plain script letters. The Bancroft 
Library, with the number. Preparatory to numbering, the 
several classes before mentioned were separated from the 
general collection, the whole weeded of duplicates, and every 
book and pamphlet put in place under the old alphabetical 
arrangement. The main working collection was then num- 
bered from one to 12,000 consecutively. This prohibited 
further alphabetical arrangement, and thereafter all subse- 
quent volumes were added at the end as they came in, and 
were covered by new numbers. In regard to the other 
classes, letters were employed in the numbering to distinguish 
one from the other. The first catalogue was written on narrow- 
ruled paper, six by nine inches when folded, and then bound; 
the second was written on thick paper, fourteen by eighteen 
inches when folded, and ruled for the purpose with columns, 
and with subsidiary lines for numbers and description. This 
catalogue indicates the shelf position of every book in the 
library; and the plan admits of additions almost limitless 
without breaking the alphabetic order. In copying it from 
the original cards an assistant was engaged for over a year. 
When completed it was strongly bound in thick boards and 
leather. 

No one can know, not having had the experience, the end- 
less labor and detail attending the keeping in order and under 
control of a large and rapidly growing collection of historical 
data. Take newspapers, for example. The newspaper is 
the first and often the only printed matter pertaining directly 
to the local afiairs sometimes of a wide area. As such its his- 
torical importance is obvious. It is the only printed record 
of the history of the section it covers. No collection of early 
historic data can be deemed in any degree complete with- 
out liberal files of the daily and weekly journals. But when 
these files of periodicals reach the number of five hundred, as 
8 



114 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

before mentioned, equivalent in bulk and information to five 
thousand volumes of books, with large daily additions, it be- 
comes difficult to know how to deal with them, for these too 
must be indexed and put away in their proper place before 
the knowledge they contain can be reached or utilized. The 
course we pursued was first of all after collocation to enter 
them by their names, and arranged territorially, in a ten-quire 
demy record book, writing 'down the numbers actually in the 
library, chronologically, with blank spaces left for missing 
numbers, to be filled in as those numbers were obtained and 
put in their places. But before putting away in their proper 
places either the files or the incoming additional numbers, all 
were indexed, after the manner of indexing the books of the 
library, and desired information extracted therefrom in the 
usual way. 

In describing the contents of the library, aside from its ar- 
rangement in the building, one would classify it somewhat 
differently, territory and chronology taking precedence of 
outward form and convenience. Any allusion in this volume 
must be necessarily very brief, for any approach to biblio- 
graphical analysis is here out of the question. We can merely 
glance at the several natural divisions of the subject, namely, 
aboriginal literature, sixteenth- century productions, works of 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, nineteenth-century 
publications, maps, manuscripts, and, by way of a specialty, 
the material for California and Northwest Coast history. 

Passing the annals of the savages, as displayed by the 
scattered picture-writings of the wilder northern tribes, which 
indeed have no place even in the category first named, we 
come to the more enduring records of the southern plateaux. 

First there are the picture records of the Aztec migrations, 
from Gemelli Carreri and the Boturini collection, and repre- 
sentations of the education of Aztec children, from the Codex 
Mendoza. Specimens of the next aboriginal class, superior 
to the Aztec picture writing, may be found in the sculptured 
hieroglyphics covering the tablets of Palenque, and the 
statues of Copan. Among the works of Lord Kingsborough 



THE LIBRARY. II5 

and of Brasseur de Bourbourg are volumes of free discussion, 
which leave the student at the end of his investigations 
exactly where he stood at the beginning. Then there are the 
Maya alphabet of Bishop Landa, and the specimens pre- 
served in the Dresden codex, which so raise intelligent curi- 
osity as to make us wish that the Spanish bigots had been 
burned instead of the masses of priceless aboriginal manu- 
scripts of which they built their bonfires. In the national 
museum of the University of Mexico were placed the rem- 
nants of the aboriginal archives of Tezcuco; and we may 
learn much from the writings of some of their former posses- 
sors, Ixtlilxochitl, Siglienza, Boturini, Veytia, Ordaz, Leon y 
Gama, and Sanchez. Clavigero has also used this material with 
profit in writing his history. The calendar stone of the Aztecs, 
a representation of which is given in the Native Races, may 
be examined with interest; also the paintings of the Aztec 
cycle, the Aztec year, and the Aztec month. Some remains 
of Central American aboriginal literature are preserved in 
the manuscript Troano, reproduced in lithography by the 
French government. 

The sixteenth-century productions relating to America, taken 
as one class, begin with the letters of Columbus written during 
the last decade of the fifteenth century. Of these there were 
printed two, with one by a firiend of the admiral, and the 
papal bull of Alexander VI., in 1493, making four plaquettes 
printed prior to 1500. Then came more papal bulls and 
more letters, and narratives of voyages by many navigators ; 
there were maps, and globes, and cosmographies, and numer- 
ous " mundus novus " books, conspicuous among their writers 
being Vespucci, Peter Martyr, the authors of Ftolemfs 
Geographia, and Enciso, who printed in 15 19 his Siima de 
Geografia, After these were itinerarios and relacioiies by 
Juan Diaz, Cortes, and others. The doughty deeds of Pe- 
drarias Davila were sung in 1525, and not long afterward 
the writings of the chronicler Oviedo began to appear in 
print. In 1532 appeared the De Instdis of Cortes and Mar- 



Il6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

tyr, and in 1534 the Chronica of Amandus, and some letters 
by Francisco Pizarro. Between 1540 and 1550 were divers 
plaquettes, besides the Relaciones of Cabeza de Vaca, the 
Come7iiarios of Pedro Hernandez, and the Apologia of 
Sepiilveda. 

The chief works touching the Pacific States territory which 
appeared during the last half of the sixteenth century were 
those of Las Casas, Gomara, Benzoni, Monardes, Fernando 
Colon, Palacio, Acosta, Perez, and Padilla. The many ac- 
counts of voyages and collections of voyages, such as Ramu- 
sio, Huttich, and Hakluyt, appearing during this period, and 
the hundreds of orde?ianzas, nuevas leyes^ and cedulas^ I can- 
not here enumerate. Nor is it necessary to mention here the 
oft-described earliest books printed in America. 

New chroniclers, historians, compilers of voyages, cosmog- 
raphers, and geographers came forward during the seven- 
teenth and eighteenth centuries. Among these were Ens, 
Philoponus, the author of West-Lidische SpiegheU Gottfried, 
D'Avity, Ogilby, Montanus, Garcia, Herrera, Torquemada, 
Villagra, Simon, De Bry, Purchas, Bernal Diaz, Pizarro y 
Orellana, De Laet, Gage, Solis, Cogolludo, Piedrahita, Ve- 
tancurt, and some English books on the Scots at Darien; 
there were likewise innumerable sermons, and the De Lidi- 
ariiin Ivre of Solorzano Pereira, the views of Grotius, the 
Teatro Eclesidstico of Gil Gonzalez Davila, and other kindred 
works. The mission chronicles w^ere a literary feature of the 
times, and toward the latter part of the epoch come the Eng- 
lish, French, and Dutch voyages of circumnavigation. 

The name of Humboldt stands prominent at the begin- 
ning of nineteenth-century Pacific States literature ; and near 
him the Mexican historian Bustamante. Then follow Escu- 
dero, Prescott, Irving, Alaman, Carbajal Espinosa, Chevaher, 
Brantz Mayer, Domenech, — among voyagers and collections 
of voyages, Krusenstern, Langsdorff, Lisiansky, Kotzebue, 
Roquefeuil, Beechy, Petit-Thouars, Laplace, Duhaut-Cilly, 
Belcher, Simpson, and Wilkes, Burney, Pinkerton, Richard- 
erie, La Harpe, and Annales des Voyages, 



THE LIBRARY. II7 

Collections of original documents are a feature of this cen- 
tury, conspicuous among which are those of Navarrete, Ter- 
naux-Compans, Buckingham Smith, Icazbalceta, Calvo, Pa- 
checo and Cardenas, and of somewhat kindred character the 
works of Sahagun, Veytia, Cavo, Tezozomoc, Scherzer, Bras- 
seur de Bourbourg, Palacio, Landa, Duran, Mota Padilla, 
Mendieta, — and more relating to the aborigines, the works 
of Cabrera, Leon y Gama, Morton, Bradford, Catlin, Bos- 
cana, Holmberg, Miiller, Baldwin, Dupaix, Waldeck, Nebel, 
Catherwood, Charnay, Adelung, Du Ponceau, Veniamino, 
Ludewig, Pimentel, Orozco y JBerra, Arenas, Amaro, Molina, 
Avila, and many others. The century presents a lengthy list 
of valuable books of travel, and physical and political de- 
scriptions, such as the works of Lewis and Clarke, James, 
Hunter, Cox, Stephens, Squier, Strangeways, Montgomery, 
Dunlop, Byam, Mollhausen, Robinson, Bryant, Bayard Tay- 
lor, De Mofras, and a thousand others, covering the entire 
range of territory from Alaska to Panama. Periodical litera- 
ture likewise assumes importance. 

With regard to maps, the field resembles that of the books 
in these respects, that it dates from the fifteenth century and 
is without end. It would appear that somewhere such labors 
should end ; yet I suspect that my works, as full and complete 
as I can make them, will prove only the foundation of a hun- 
dred far more attractive volumes. In our examination of 
maps we may if we like go back to the chart of the brothers 
Zeno, drawn in 1390, following with Behaim's globe in 1492, 
Juan de la Cosa's map in 1500, and those by Ruysch in 1508, 
Peter Martyr, 151 1, that in the Ptolemy^s Cosmography of 
1 5 13, those in the Miuiich Atlas and Schoner's globe, 1520, 
Colon's and Ribero's, drawn in 1527 and 1529 respectively, 
Orontius Fine in 1531, and Castillo, 1541, showing the penin- 
sula of California, after which the number becomes numerous. 

In my collection of manuscripts, taken as a whole, perhaps 
the Concilios Provinciales Mexicanos should be mentioned first. 



Il8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

It is in four volumes, and is a record of the first three eccle- 
siastical councils held in Mexico ; in comparison with which 
a number of more strictly religious works are hardly worth 
mentioning — for example, the Catecismo hecho por el Concilia 
IV, Mexicano ; the Explicacion de la doctrina hechapor el Con- 
cilio IV.; Qumarraga^ loajines de, Pastoral, in Latin ; the Mo- 
ralia S, Gregorii Fapce, and the like. 

Of more value are the SermoneSyOi the discursos panegiri- 
cos stamp, and other branches of the religio-historical type, 
while the worth of such works as Maieriales para la Historia 
de Sofiora, the same of Texas, Nueva Galicia, Nueva Vizcaya, 
and other provinces thereabout, secured mostly from the Max- 
imiUan collection, is past computation. Among the hundreds 
of titles which present themselves having greater or less claims 
to importance are Meinorias de Mexico ; Rivera, Diario Cit- 
rioso ; Mexico, Archivo General ; Beaumont, Crmica de la 
Provincia de S, Pedro y S. Pablo de Mechoacan ; Cartas 
Americanas ; Goniez, Diario de Mexico, Some of the Squier 
manuscripts are Grijalva, Relacion ; Andagoya, Carta ; Yza- 
gicirre, Relacion ; Alvarado, Cartas ; Cerezeda, Carta, andi?^- 
lacion ; Via?ia, Gallego, and Cadena, Relacion; Criado de 
Castilla, Relacion ; Ddvila, Relacion ; Documentos relaiivos a 
la Historia de la Audiencia de los Confines ; Icon Pijielo, Re- 
lacion, and Vel'asco, Capitiilos de Carta. From the Ramirez 
collection I obtained Reales Cedillas, Reales Ordenanzas, 
Leyes, etc. ; Adas Provinciates ; Albieiiri, Historia de las Mi- 
sio7ies ; Autos forniados a Pedimento de esta Nobles sima ciu- 
dad ; Figiieroa, Vindicias ; Papeles de lesuitas ; Disturbios de 
Frailes ; Noticias de la Nueva California ; Morfi, Aptmtes 
sobre el Nuevo Mexico ; Monteverde, Memoria sobre Sonora ; 
Monw?te?ttos Historicos ; Relacion de la Orden de San Fran- 
cisco e7i la Nueva Espafia ; Mejnorias para la Historia de la 
Provincia de Sinaloa ; Tamaron, Visita del obispado de Du- 
rango ; Tumultos de Mexico, and many others. 

As to the hundreds of manuscript volumes of copied ar- 
chives, histories, and narratives upon which the histories of 
the northern half of the Pacific territory are based, it is useless 



THE LIBRARY. II9 

here to attempt any mention ; I can only refer the reader to 
the bibliographical notices in my histories of that region, and 
to other places, where somewhat more space is devoted to 
the subject. It is impossible to give in a few chapters any 
adequate idea of the vast army of authors, arranged in bat- 
talions, regiments, and companies, quartered in the library 
building on Valencia street. The best exposition of the con- 
tents of the books of the library may be found in my volume 
of Essays and Miscellany^ where I devote four chapters to 
the literature of the territory covered by my writings, entitled, 
respectively, Literature of Central America; Literature of 
Colonial Mexico; Literature of Mexico during the Present 
Century ; and Early California Literature. These chapters, 
together with the bibliographical notes carried through all 
my historical works, and which I have endeavored to make 
systematic, thorough, and complete, constitute not only a 
description of the contents of the library, but a very fair his- 
tory and analysis of Pacific States literature, the library con- 
taining as it does the entire literature of these lands. While 
thousands of authors must obviously remain unmentioned, yet 
in spirit and in essence the writings of the place and time are 
fairly presented, the object being to tell so far as possible all 
that has been done in the various fields of learning and letters. 

In these chapters are presented not only results, but 
causes, whence emerged, under conditions favorable or un- 
favorable, natural or abnormal developments. The colonial 
literature of Central America and Mexico was some advance 
on the aboriginal, though not so great as many imagine ; but 
when we reach the republican era of material and mental 
development, we find a marked change. The Pacific United 
States are bringing forth some strong men and strong books, 
if thus far authors of repute have come as a rule from beyond 
the border-line, and are not sons of the soil. 

A collection of books, like everything else, has its history 
and individuahty. Particularly is this the case in regard to 
collections limited to a special subject, time, or territory. 
Such are the result of birth and growth ; they are not found 



I20 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

in the market for sale, ready made ; there must have been 
sometime the engendering idea, followed by a long natural 
development. 

From the ordinary point of view there is nothing remarkable 
in gathering 50,000 volumes and providing a building for their 
reception. There are many libraries larger than this, some of 
them having been founded and carried forward by an individ- 
ual, who, without government or other aid, likewise erected a 
building for his books. Nevertheless, there are some remark- 
able features about this collection, some important points in 
connection therewith, which cannot be found elsewhere. 

First, as a historical library it stands apart from any other, 
being the largest collection in the world of books, maps, and 
manuscripts relating to a special territory, time, or subject. 
There are larger masses of historical data lodged in certain 
archives or libraries, bu^4hey are more general, or perhaps 
universal, relating to aHria^s and peoples, and not to so 
limited an area of the earth. And when the further facts 
are considered, how recently this country was settled, and 
how thinly peopled it now is as compared with what it will 
be some day, the difference is still more apparent. 

Secondly, it gives to each section of the area covered more 
full, complete, and accurate data concerning its early history 
than any state or nation in the civilized world, outside of this 
territory, has or ever can have. So long as this collection is 
kept intact, and neither burned nor scattered, California, 
Oregon, and the rest of these Pacific commonwealths may 
find here fuller material regarding their early history than 
Massachusetts, New York, or any other American state, than 
England, Germany, Italy, or any other European nation. 
The reason is obvious : they missed their opportunity ; not 
one of them can raise the dead or gather from obhvion that 
which is lost and forgotten. 

Third, it has been put to a more systematic and practical 
use than any other historical library in the world. I have 
never heard of any considerable collection being indexed 
according to the subject-matter contained in each volume, 



THE LIBRARY. 121 

as has been the case here; or of such a mass of crude his- 
toric matter being ever before worked over, winnowed, and 
the parts worth preserving written out and printed for general 
use, as has been done in this instance. 

Says an eminent writer: "Respecting Mr. Bancroft's 
Pacific Library as a storehouse of historic data, pertaining 
to this broad and new western land, but one opinion has 
been expressed during the twenty years that the existence of 
such an institution has been known to the world. In all that 
has been said or written, at home or abroad, by friend or foe, 
by admirers, indifferent observers, conservative critics, or 
hypercritical fault-finders, there has been entire unanimity of 
praise of the library as a collection of historic data. Disin- 
terested and impartial visitors, after a personal inspection, 
have invariably shown a degree of admiration far exceeding 
that of the warmest friends who knew the library only from 
description. The praise of those who might be supposed to 
be influenced to some extent by local pride has never equalled 
that of prominent scholars from the east and Europe. 

"There is no American collection with which this can 
fairly be compared. There are other large and costly private 
libraries; but the scope, plan, and purpose of the Bancroft 
Library place it beyond the possibihty of comparison. It is 
made up exclusively of printed and manuscript matter per- 
taining to the Pacific States, from Alaska to Panama. To 
say that it is superior to any other in its own field goes for 
little, because there are no others of any great magnitude; 
but when we can state truthfully that nowhere in the world 
is there a similar collection equal to it, the assertion means 
something. And not only does this collection thus excel all 
others as a whole, but a like excellence is apparent for each 
of its parts. In it may be found, for instance, a better library 
of Mexican works, of Central American works, of Pacific 
United States works, than elsewhere exists. And to go fur- 
ther, it may be said to contain a more perfect collection on 
Alaska, on New Mexico, on Texas, on Colorado, on Utah, 
on Costa Rica, and the other individual states or govern- 



122 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ments than can be found outside its walls. Not only this, 
but in several cases, notably that of Cahfomia, this library is 
regarded as incomparably superior to any state collection 
existing, or that could at this date be formed in all the United 
States or Europe. 

" There is no other state or country whose historic data 
have been so thoroughly collected at so early a period of its 
existence, especially none whose existence has been so varied 
and eventful, and its record so complicated and perishable. 
Mr. Bancroft has attempted, and successfully as is believed, 
to do for his country a work which in the ordinary course of 
events would have been left for a succession of historical 
societies and specialists to do in a later generation, after the 
largest part of the material had been lost, and the accomphsh- 
ment of the purpose would be absolutely impossible. Then, 
too, from such work the resulting stores of data, besides their 
comparative paucity, would be scattered, and not accessible 
as a whole to any single investigator. The advantage of 
having such historic treasures in one place rather than in 
many is almost as obvious as that of preventing the loss of 
valuable material." 

In this connection it is worthy of our serious consideration 
how the future great libraries of the world will procure those 
ancient and important works which constitute at once the 
foundation and the treasure of every great collection. How- 
ever it may be some time hence, it is certain that at the 
present day no collection of books is worthy of the name of 
library without a fair share of these rare and valuable works. 
Particularly is this the case in our own country, where the 
value and importance of every library must depend, not on 
Elzevir editions, elaborate church missals, or other old-world 
curiosities, often as worthless as they are costly, but on works 
of material interest and value relating to the discovery, con- 
quest, settlement, and development of America, in its many 
parts from south to north, and east to west, from the days of 
Columbus to the present time — books becoming every day 
rarer and more costly. 



THE LIBRARY. 1 23 

A prominent New York bookseller thus prints in his cata- 
logue, in regard to old and valuable books as an investment : 
" We have often, in the course of our experience as book- 
sellers, heard more or less comment on our prices. ' You 
have good books and rare books,' our customers will say, 
^ but your prices are high/ And yet there is not a collector 
in the country who would not be glad to have books in his 
line at prices catalogued by us three or four years ago, could 
we supply them at the same prices now. So it may be safely 
affirmed that in rare books the tendency of prices is upward, 
the number of collectors increasing, and the difficulty in 
finding good books also increasing. We have always found 
it more difficult to obtain a really rare book in good condi- 
tion than to sell it. To the genuine lover of books it may be 
said : First find the book you want, then buy it, and if you 
think you have been extravagant, repent at your leisure, and 
by the time you have truly repented the book will have 
increased sufficiently in value to give you full absolution." 

The time will come, indeed, when men will cease their 
efforts to measure the value of knowledge by money. 

Thus in these various forms and attitudes the magnitude 
and importance of my work were constantly urging me on. 
This western coast, it seemed to me as I came to know and 
love it, is the best part of the United States, a nation occupy- 
ing the best part of the two Americas, and rapidly becoming 
one of the most intellectual and powerful in the world. Its 
early history and all the data connected with it which can be 
gathered are of corresponding importance. 

Nor is this view so extravagant as to some it may appear. 
Already New England is physically on the decline, while 
there is surely as much mental vigor west as east. Along the 
Atlantic seaboard are thousands of farms which will not 
sell for what the improvements cost, while the extremes of 
climate are killing and driving away. Work has only as yet 
begun on the Pacific seaboard, v/here are milhons of unoc- 
cupied acres, ten of which with proper cultivation will sup- 



124 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

port a family in comfort. The commonwealths of the New 
World are becoming more and more united under the benefi- 
cent influences of peace and progress ; and the Monroe doc- 
trine, at first negative rather than positive in its assertions, is 
pointing the way toward world-wide domination by American 
brotherhood. The greatest of republics has entered upon its 
second century of national existence under circumstances 
more favorable than have ever before been vouchsafed to 
man. The integrity of the Union has been tried and preserved ; 
the stain of slavery has been eradicated ; and while there is 
yet enough of corruption and licentiousness, political and 
social, there is more than enough of good to counterbalance 
the evil. In moral health and intellectual freedom we are 
second to none, and so rapidly is our wealth increasing that 
England will soon be left behind in the race for riches. Give 
to the United States one half of the five centuries in which 
Rome was established as the mistress of the world, and the 
American republic cannot be otherwise if she would than the 
most powerful nation on earth. And when that time comes, 
California and the commonwealths on this Pacific seaboard 
will be a seat of culture and power to which all roads shall 
lead. 

Therefore I give myself no concern as to the importance 
or ultimate appreciation of my work, however humble or im- 
perfect may be the instrument of its accomplishment. And 
of the two sections, the historical narrative proper and the 
biographical section, in the latter I should say have been pre- 
served even more of the invaluable experiences of the build- 
ers of these commonwealths than in the former. The biogra- 
phies and characterizations of the eminent personages who, 
during the first fifty years of the existence of the Pacific com- 
monwealths, laid the foundations of empire, built upon them 
with such marvellous rapidity, skill and intelligence, and sur- 
rounded them with the framework of the material conditions 
out of which was evolved their magnificent destiny, contain 
vast magazines of valuable knowledge almost entirely new 
and nowhere else existing. 



CHAPTER IX. 

DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS. 

Some have been seene to bite their pen, scratch their head, bend their 
browes, bite their Hps, beat the boord, teare their paper, when they were 
faire for somewhat, and caught nothing therein. — Camden, 

HEAPS and heaps of diamonds and — sawdust ! Good gold 
and genuine silver, pearls and oyster-shells, copper and 
iron mixed with refuse and debris — such was the nature and 
condition of my collection in 1869, before any considerable 
labor had been bestowed upon it. Surrounded by these accu- 
mulations, I sat in an embarrassment of wealth. Chaff and 
wheat; wheat, straw, and dirt; where was the brain or the 
score of brains to do this winnowing ? 

What winnowing ? I never promised myself or any one 
to do more than to gather ; never promised even that, and 
probably, had I known in the beginning what was before me, 
I never should have undertaken it. Was it not enough to 
mine for the precious metal without having to attempt the 
more delicate and difficult task of melting down the mass 
and refining it, when I kney\^ nothing of the process ? But 
I could at least arrange my accumulations in some kind of 
order, and even dignify them by the name of library. 

During my last visit abroad Mr. Knight had been clipping 
in a desultory manner from Pacific coast journals, and classi- 
fying the results under numerous headings in scrap-books and 
boxes ; and I had also at that time an arrangement with the 
literary editor of the New York Evening Fast, whereby he 
clipped from European and American journals, and for- 
warded to San Francisco, monthly, such articles of value 
touching the Pacific slope as fell under his eye. By this 

I2S 



126 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

means much pertinent matter was saved which I should 
never otherwise have seen. These cHppings were all arranged, 
as nearly as possible, under such divisions as suggested them- 
selves. 

While we were thus engaged, which was for little less than 
a year, there came to our establishment a young man, a 
native of New England, Henry L. Oak by name, recom- 
mended by Mr. S. F. Barstow for the position of office-editor 
of a journal called The Occident^ which our firm was then 
publishing for a religious association. 

Knight was then manager of the publishing department, 
and to him Mr. Oak was introduced. I had not yet returned 
from the east, where I remained some time on my way back 
from Europe. After talking the matter over with the persons 
interested, Mr. Oak was finally installed in the position. His 
predecessor remained a few weeks, to instruct him in his 
duties, and thereafter he filled the position to the satisfaction 
of all concerned. These duties consisted at first of writing 
the news items and minor editorial notes, making selections 
from printed matter, reading proof, folding and mailing 
papers, keeping accounts, corresponding with contributors 
and subscribers, and collecting bills. Gradually the whole 
burden of editing the journal fell on him. The persons inter- 
ested faiHng to carry out their agreement, the firm decHned 
further publication of the journal, and the young editor was 
thrown out of employment. Thus the matter stood on my 
return from the east, and then my attention was first directed 
to Mr. Oak. 

Meanw^hile I had engaged as assistant, and finally suc- 
cessor, to Mr. Knight, an Englishman of erratic disposition, 
who called himself Bosquetti. He was remarl^ably quick 
and clear-headed in some directions, and a good talker on 
almost any subject. Large additions had lately been made 
to the library; there were some wagon loads of old musty 
books, apparently unfit for anything, which had been thrust 
promiscuously as received into large bins in a corner of the 



DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS. 1 27 

second floor wareroom of the Merchant-street building, before 
mentioned. 

Bosquetti was directed to arrange and catalogue these 
volumes. He had some knowledge of books and even of 
cataloguing, but his mind was not remarkable for breadth or 
depth; the capability to produce finished results was want- 
ing. He had been thus occupied about a month when I 
engaged Mr. Oak to assist him. Oak knew little of books 
except such as he had studied at college, and professed to 
know nothing of cataloguing; but he possessed to an eminent 
degree that rarest of qualities, common sense. Within a few 
weeks he had familiarized himself with the best systems, im- 
proving on them all in many respects, or at least he had 
taken from them such parts as best suited his purpose and 
had applied them to it. Thick medium writing paper was 
cut to a uniform size, three and a half by five inches, and the 
full titles were written thereon; these were then abridged on 
smaller cards, two and a half by four inches, and finally 
copied alphabetically in a blank book made for that purpose. 
The United States Government documents were examined, 
a list of volumes needed to fill sets was made out, and the 
contents of those at hand determined. A copy was likewise 
made of the catalogue of the San Diego archives, kindly 
furnished by Judge Hayes, which subsequently fell to me as 
part of the collection purchased from him. Shortly afterward 
Bosquetti decamped, leaving Oak alone in his work, which 
he pursued untiringly for over a year. Indeed, he may be 
said to have done the whole of the cataloguing himself, for 
what his coadjutor had written was of little practical benefit. 

The flight of Bosquetti was in this wise : First I sent him 
to Sacramento to make a list of such books on California as 
were in the state library. This he accomplished to my satis- 
faction. On his return, having heard of some valuable mate- 
rial at Santa Clara college, I sent him down to copy it. A 
month passed, during which time he wrote me regularly, re- 
porting his doings, what the material consisted of, what the 
priests said to him, and how he was progressing in his labors. 



128 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

He drew his pay religiously, the money both for salary and ex- 
penses being promptly sent him. It did not occur to me that 
there was anything wrong. He had been with me now for 
several months and I had never had cause to distrust him, 
until one day the proprietor of the hotel at which he lodged 
wrote me, saying that he understood the gentleman to be in 
my service, and he thought it but right to inform me that 
since he came to his house he had been most of the time in 
a state of beastly intoxication and had not done a particle 
of work. When his bottle became low he would sober up 
enough to make a visit to the college, write me a letter, 
receive his pay, and buy more liquor. 

In some way Bosquetti learned that I had been informed 
of his conduct, and not choosing to wait for my benediction, 
he wrote me a penitent letter and turned his face southward, 
seemingly desirous above all to widen the distance between 
us. I was satisfied to be rid of him at the cost of a few hun- 
dred dollars. 

Oak was thus left in sole charge of the literary accumula- 
tions, of w^hich he was duly installed librarian. When the 
card copying was nearly completed the books were alphabeti- 
cally arranged, tied up in packages, and placed in one hun- 
dred and twenty- one large cases, in which shape, in May, 
1870, they were transferred to the fifth floor of the new and 
still unfinished building on Market street. After superintend- 
ing their removal the librarian daily climbed a series of ladders 
to one of the side rooms of the new library, where a floor had 
been laid and a table placed. There he continued copying 
into a book the contents of the small cards previously pre- 
pared, and thus made the first manuscript catalogue of the 
library, which was in daily use for a period of twelve years. 
He was assisted during part of the time by a cousin of mine, 
son of my most esteemed friend and uncle, W. W. Bancroft, 
of Granville. Shelving was then constructed; the cases were 
opened, and the books placed alphabetically upon the shelves. 
During this time I made some passes at literature, writing for 
the most part at my residence. Shortly after we had fairly 



DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS. 1 29 

moved into the Market-street building, my brother returned 
with his family from their European tour. The business out- 
look was not flattering, but nevertheless wx pressed forward, 
well knowing that to falter was to be lost. 

During the autumn of 1870 Mr. Oak continued his labors 
on the fifth floor, cataloguing new lots of books as they came 
in, arranging maps, briefs, and newspapers, copying and clip- 
ping bibliographical notes from catalogues, and taking care 
of the books. It was still my intention in due time to issue 
a bibliography of the Pacific coast, which should include all 
of my own collection and as many more titles as I could find. 
Before the end of the year there was quite a pile of my 
own manuscript on my table and in the drawers, mono- 
graphs, mostly, on subjects and incidents connected with the 
Pacific coast. All my thoughts were on history, and kindred 
topics. Pacific States history, and the many quaint and curious 
things and remarkable and thrilling events connected with it. 
I was passionately fond of writing; I would take up a subject 
here or an episode there and write it up for the pure pleas- 
ure it gave me, and every day I found myself able to place 
my thoughts on paper with greater ease and facility. But 
even yet I had no well-defined intentions of writing a book 
for publication. The responsibility was greater than I cared 
to assume. I had seen in my business so many futile attempts 
in that direction, so many failures, that I had no desire to add 
mine to the number. While I was wavering upon this border 
land of doubt and hesitancy, Mr. Oak concluded to visit his 
old home and pass the winter with his friends at the east. 

I continued writing, though in a somewhat desultory man- 
ner ; the idea of anything more systematic at this time was 
somewhat repugnant to me. As yet my feebly kindled enthu- 
siasm refused to burn brightly. I longed to do something, I 
did not know what ; I longed to do great things, I did not 
know how ! I longed to say something, I had nothing to 
say. And yet I would write as if my life depended on it, 
and if ever what seemed to me a bright thought or happy 
9 



130 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

expression fell from my pen my breast would swell as if I 
saw it wTitten in the heavens, though the next moment I 
consigned it to a dungeon, there to remain perhaps forever. 
Much of what I last published was thus first written. The 
difficulty, so far as more systematic effort was concerned, was 
to flee the incubus of care and of pecuniary responsibility 
that leech-like had fastened themselves upon me these twenty 
years, and now threatened destruction to any plans I might 
make. For weeks at a time I would studiously avoid the 
library, like a jilted lover hating the habitation of his mis- 
tress ; and the more I kept away the more the place became 
distasteful to me. Then I would arouse myself, resolve and 
re-resolve, dissipate depressing doubts, shut my eyes to former 
slights, and turn to the dwelhng of my love. 

Long before I had a thought of writing anything myself 
for pubhcation, the plan of an encyclopaedia of the Pacific 
States had been proposed to me by several gentlemen of 
California, who had felt the need of such a work. The idea 
presented itself thus : My collection, they said, was composed 
of every species of matter relating to the coast — physical 
geography, geology, botany, ethnology, history, biography, 
and so on through the whole range of knowledge. Was it 
not desirable to give to the world the fruits of such a field in 
the most compact shape, and was not an encyclopaedia the 
natural, and indeed the only feasible, form ? 

I did not at all fancy the task which they would thus lay 
upon me. It was not to my taste merely to manipulate 
knowledge. To write and publish a treatise on every subject 
embraced within the categories of general information would 
be a task almost as impracticable as to reproduce and offer 
to the world the books of the library in print. Yet it was 
true that an encyclopaedia of knowledge relating wholly to 
the territory covered by the collection, which should supple- 
ment eastern and European encyclopaedias, would certainly 
be desirable. The volumes should be rather small, and the 
articles which treated purely of Pacific coast matters longer 
than those contained in other encyclopaedias. Some subjects 



DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS. 131 

might occupy a whole volume — as, for example, bibliogra- 
phy, mines and mining, physical geography, ethnology — and 
might be pubHshed separately, if necessary, as well as in the 
series. The matter was discussed, with rising or falling en- 
thusiasm, for some time. 

Mr. Oak returned in May, 187 1, and resumed his duties 
as librarian. He spent ten days in attending to the prepara- 
tion of two guide-books for tourists, the publication of which 
I had undertaken, and in discussing the scheme of an ency- 
clopaedia, which I finally consented to edit. I then began 
to look about for contributors. It was desirable at once to 
draw out as much as possible of the talent latent on this coast, 
and to secure the best writers for the work. Circulars were 
accordingly issued, not only to men eminent in literature and 
the professions, but to pioneers, and to all likely to possess 
information, stating the purpose and requesting cooperation. 
To several of the judges, lawyers, physicians, clergymen, and 
others in San Francisco of known literary tastes and talents, 
I made personal appeals, and received flattering assurances. 

I appointed an agent in New York, Mr. Henry P. John- 
ston, then of the editorial staff of the Siin^ to call on Califor- 
nians and others able and willing to write, and engage their 
contributions. Many in the east and at the west placed their 
services freely at my disposal. 

A number of other projected works at various times com- 
manded my attention, and to execute them would have given 
me great pleasure, but I was obHged to forego the attempt, 
a thousand years of life not having been allotted me. Among 
them were A History of Gold; Physical Features of the 
Pacific States; a volume on Interoceanic Communication; 
one on Pacific Railways ; a series of volumes of condensed 
Voyages and Travels; a Geography in small 8vo; also a 
similar volume on Ethnology, and one on History, all of a 
popular nature embodying certain ideas which I have never 
seen worked out. On this last mentioned project, and indeed 
on some of the others, considerable work was done. I likewise 
intended to print fifty or one hundred of the most valuable 



132 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of my manuscripts as material for Pacific States history. 
Who has ever hved and labored under the pressure of the 
cacoetJies scribendi, without promising himself to write a dozen 
books for every one actually written ! 

For the first time in my life, health now began to fail. 
The increasing demands of the vast mercantile and manufac- 
turing structure which I had reared drew heavily upon my 
nervous system. I grew irritable, was at times despondent, 
and occasionally desperately indifferent. I determined on 
a change of scene. Accordingly the loth of May I started 
for a visit to the east, stopping at Salt Lake City for the 
purpose of enlisting the Mormons in my behalf. President 
Young and the leading elders entered heartily into my pro- 
ject, and a scheme was devised for obtaining information from 
every part of Utah. A schedule of the material required 
was to be forwarded through the channels of the govern- 
ment, with such instructions from the chief authorities as 
would command the immediate and careful attention of their 
subordinates throughout the territory. With the intention of 
calling on my return for the purpose of carrying out the plan 
I continued my journey. Then I fell into despondency. 
The state of my nerves, and the uncertainty of my fimancial 
future, had so dissipated ambition that much of the time I 
found myself in a mood fitter for making my exit from the 
world than for beginning a new life in it. 

At this time the chances that any important results would 
ever emanate from the library through my efforts were very 
sHght. Gradually I abandoned the idea of having anything 
to do with an encyclopaedia. My energies were sapped. My 
grip on destiny seemed relaxing. I had steered the ship of 
business until I was exhausted, and the storm continuing, I left 
it to others, little caring, for my own part, w^hether it weathered 
the gale or not. The agony had been too long drawn out ; if 
I was to be hanged, let me be hanged and have done with it. 
Such was my humor during the summer of 187 1, as I lounged 
about among my friends at the east, listless and purposeless. 



DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS. 1 33 

From this lethargy I was awakened by an accidental remark 
of a friend, who said to me : " The next ten years will be the 
best of your life ; what are you going to do with them ? " A 
leading question, truly, and one I had often asked myself of 
late without finding an answer; yet the v/ay of putting these 
few simple words brought them home to me in a manner 
I had never before felt. I was standing by, waiting to see 
whether I might proceed with my literary undertaking, or 
whether I should have to go to work for my bread. 

What was I to do ? I did not know ; but I would do some- 
thing, and that at once. I would mark out a path and follow 
it, and if in the mean time I should be overwhelmed, let it be 
so ; I would waste no more time waiting. Once more I rubbed 
my lamp and asked the genius what to do. In due time the 
answer came ; the way was made clear, yet not all at once ; 
still, from that time I was at less loss as to what next I should 
do, and how I should proceed to do it. From that day to this 
I have known less wavering, less hesitation. I would strike 
at once for the highest, brightest mark before me. I would 
make an effort, whatever the result, which should be enno- 
bling, in which even failure should be infinitely better than 
listless inaction. Exactly what I would undertake I could 
not now determine. History- writing I conceived to be among 
the highest of human occupations, and this should be my 
choice, were my ability equal to my ambition. There was 
enough with which to wrestle, under these new conditions, to 
strengthen nerve and sharpen skill. 

Thus roused I went back to California. I entered the 
library. Oak was faithfully at v/ork cutting up duplicate cop- 
ies of books and distributing the parts upon the previous 
plan, thus adding to the numerous scraps hitherto collected 
and arranged. It was a sorrowful attempt at great things ; 
nevertheless it was an attempt. To this day the fruits of 
man/ such plantings in connection with these Literary 
Industries remain unplucked. Yet, if never permitted by 
my destiny to accomplish great things, I could at least die 
attempting them. 



CHAPTER X. 

A LITERARY WORKSHOP. 



We were the first that ever burst 
Into that silent sea. — Coleridge, 



IT was the 20th of August, 1871, that I returned from my 
eastern trip, being summoned to the support of a greatly 
imperiled business. My friends had become fearful for the 
safety of the firm, and had telegraphed me to return. Wicked 
reports of things undreamed of by ourselves had been so long 
and so persistently circulated by certain of our competitors, 
who feared and hated us, that the confidence of even those 
slow to believe ill of us began to be shaken. 

The fact of my changing the name of the firm, the reason 
for which I had some delicacy about loudly proclaiming, 
was perverted by our enemies into a fear as to the ultimate 
success of the business, and a determination on my part in 
case of failure not to be brought down with it. And this, 
notwithstanding they knew, or might have known, that I 
never shirked any part of the responsibility connected with 
the change of name, and that every dollar I had was pledged 
for the support of the business. To their great disappoint- 
ment we did not succumb ; we did not ask for an extension, 
or for any favors from any one. Nevertheless my friends 
desired me to return, and I came. 

But I was in a bad humor for business. I never thought 
it possible so to hate it, and all the behtthngs and soul- 
crushings connected with it. Even the faint glimpse of the 
Above and Beyond in my fancies had been sufficient to spoil 
me for future money grubbings. " Only those who know the 
supremacy of the intellectual life," says George EHot, " the 

134 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. I35 

life which has a seed of ennobHng thought and purpose within 
it, can understand the grief of one who falls from that serene 
activity into the absorbing soul-wasting struggle with worldly 
annoyances." Had I been alone, with only myself to suffer, 
and had not even my literary aspirations been dependent on 
the success of the shop, I should have turned my back on it 
forever to let it sink or swim, as it would or might. 

This, however, was not to be. My duty was too plain 
before me. The business must have my attention ; it must 
have more money, and this I must provide. Into the breach 
I threw myself, and stood there as well as I was able, though 
at such a cost of feeling as no one ever knew, and as few 
could ever appreciate. Having done this, all that I could 
do, and in fact all that was necessary to save the business, I 
mentally consigned the whole establishment to oblivion, and 
directed my attention once more, and this time in desperate 
earnest, to literary interests. 

At the very threshold of my resolve, however, stared me 
in the face the old inquiry. What shall I do, and how shall I 
do it ? One thing was plain, even to a mind as unskilled in 
the mysteries of book-making as mine. On my shelves were 
tons of un winnowed material for histories unwritten and 
sciences undeveloped. In the present shape it was of little 
use to me or to the world. Facts were too scattered ; in- 
deed, mingled and hidden as they were in huge masses of 
debris, the more one had of them the worse. A little truth 
in such a form as one could use, a quantity such as one could 
grasp, was better than uncontrollable heaps. Much knowl- 
edge out of order is little learning; confusion follows the 
accumulation in excess of ungeneralized data. 

To find a way to the gold of this amalgam, to mark out a 
path through a wilderness of knowledge to the desired facts, 
was the first thing to be done. He who would write at the '; ^ 
greatest advantage on any practical subject must have before | 
him all that has been written by others, all knowledge ex-ii 
tant on that subject. To have that knowledge upon hisf 
shelves, and yet be unable to place his hand upon it, is no/ 



136 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

better than to be without it. If I wished to write fully on 
the zoology, for example, of the Pacific slope, nine tenths of 
all the books in my library containing reference to the ani- 
mals of the coast might as well be at the bottom of the 
ocean as in my possession unless I was prepared to spend 
fifteen years on this one subject. And even then it could not 
be thoroughly done. Fancy an author with thirty or fifty 
thousand volumes before him, sitting down to read or look 
through ten thousand of them for every treatise or article he 
wrote ! De Quincey gives a close reader from five to eight 
thousand volumes to master between the ages of twenty 
and eighty; hence a man beginning at thirty-seven with 
twenty thousand volumes, soon increased to forty thousand, 
could scarcely hope in his lifetime even to glance through 
them all. 

This was the situation. And before authorship could 
begin a magic wand must be waved over the assembled 
products of ten thousand minds, which would severalize what 
each had said on all important topics and reduce the other- 
wise rebellious mass to form and system. This, after the 
collection of the material, was the first step in the new 
chemistry of literary reduction. Here, as elsewhere in the 
application of science, facts must be first collected, then 
classified, after which laws and general knowledge may be 
arrived at. 

How was this to be accomplished ? It is at the initial pe- ^ 
riod of an undertaking that the chief difficulty arises. I had 
no guide, no precedent by which to formulate my operations. 
I might write after the ordinary method of authors, but in 
this field comparatively little could come of it. To my knowl- 
edge, authorship of the quality to which I aspired had never 
before been attempted by a private individual. A mass of 
material like mine had never before been collected, collocated, 
eviscerated, and re-created by one man, unassisted by any 
society or government. The great trouble was to get at and 
abstract the information. Toward the accomplishment of 
this my first efforts were crude, as may well be imagined. I 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. 137 

attempted to read or cursorily examine such volumes as were 
likely to contain information on the subjects to be written, 
and to mark the passages to be extracted. A system of fig- 
ures was adopted, one of which, pencilled on the margin of 
the page, denoted the subject-heading under which the ex- 
tracted page or paragraph should appear. These passages 
were then copied. Of course it would have been easier to 
purchase two copies of every important book, and to have 
cut them up, as in fact was done in many instances ; but 
much of the collection could not be duplicated at any 
cost, and to destroy a book or even a newspaper of which I 
could not buy another ccfpy was not for a moment to be 
thought of. 

But what was one man, one reader, among so many thou- 
sand authors ! After going over a dozen volumes or so in 
this manner, and estimating the time required for reading and 
marking all the books of the library, I found that by constant 
application, eight hours a day, it would take four hundred 
years to get through them, and that in a superficial way. 
Altogether I- concluded that other men must also be set to 
reading, and others again to copying literatim all informa- 
tion likely to be required in the study of any subject. Thus 
these literary industries began gradually to assume broader 
proportions, and so they continued till December of this 
same year. 

On trial, however, the plan proved a failure. The copied 
material relating to the same or kindred topics could indeed 
be brought together, but on beginning to write I found the 
extracts unsatisfying, and felt the necessity of the book itself. 
The copyist might have made a mistake; and to appraise the 
passage at its full value I must see the connection. Any ex- 
perienced author could have told me this; but there was no 
expQrienced author at hand. 

After some twenty-five reams of legal cap paper had thus 
been covered on one side, to consign the labors of these six 
or eight men for these several months to the waste heap was 
but the work of a moment. There was too much involved, 



/ 



138 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the enterprise was projected on too large a scale, to admit 
of a wrong beginning; and prepared as I was to stake past, 
present, and future on this literary adventure, it appeared 
folly to continue a path shown to be wrong. La Fontaine's 
idea was not a bad one : " Le trop d'expediens pent gater 
une affaire : on perd du temps au choix, on tente ; on veut 
tout faire. N'en ayons qu'un; mais qu'il soit bon." 

f Meanwhile, after frequent and protracted discussions, I 
I determined to have the whole library indexed as one would 
1 index a single book. This surely would bring before me all 
that every author had said on any subject about which I 
should choose to write. This, too, would give me the authors 
themselves, and embody most of the advantages of the former 
scheme without its faults. In pursuance of this plan Oak 
took up the voyage collections of Hakluyt and Navarrete, 
while less important works were distributed to such of the 
former readers and copyists as were deemed competent. For 
example, one Gordon made an index of California legislative 
documents. Albert Goldschmidt's first work was to make an 
index, on a somewhat more general plan than that of Navar- 
rete, of the Atlantic Monthly^ and other magazines and reviews. 
He afterward catalogued a large quantity of Mexican books. 
To Cresswell, since in the Nevada senate, Pointdexter, and 
others, was given similar work. 

Among other parts of the outlined encyclopaedia was a 
collection of voyages and travels to and throughout the Pa- 
cific States. As the more comprehensive programme was 
gradually set aside, my attention became more and more 
concentrated on these several parts. True, history was ever 
the prominent idea in my mind, but, audacious as was my 
ambition, I had not the presumption to rush headlong into 
it during the incipient stages of my work. At the beginning 
of my literary pilgrimage, I did little but flounder in a slough 
of despond. Until my feet touched more solid ground, I did 
not dare essay that which appeared to me no less difficult 
than grand. 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. 1 39 

A collection of voyages and travels such as I projected 
offered many attractions as an initial step in my literary under- 
takings. Incident and instruction were therein so combined 
as under skillful handling to awaken and retain the liveliest 
interest. Here was less risk of failure than in more ambitious 
attempts ; I alone possessed the material, and surely I could 
serve it in a style not wholly devoid of attractions. If this 
were not within the scope of my accomplishment nothing 
was. So, during the first half of 1872, in conjunction with 
the indexing, under a devised system of condensation, several 
persons were employed in extracting Pacific coast voyages 
and travels. Walter M. Fisher wrote out the travels of 
Bryant, Bayard Taylor, Humboldt, and others. This work 
altogether lasted about a year, and resulted in — nothing. 

Long before this I had discovered the plan of the index 
then in progress to be impracticable. It was too exact ; it 
was on too minute a scale. Besides absorbing an enormous 
amount of time and money in its making, when completed it 
would be so voluminous and extended as to be cumbersome, 
and too unwieldy for the purpose designed. 

Others realized this more fully than myself, and from them 
came many suggestions in perfecting the present and more 
practical system. This is a modification and simplification 
of the former, a reduction to practice of what before was 
only theory. Three months were occupied in planning and 
testing this new system. When we became satisfied with the 
results, we began indexing and teaching the art to the men. 
As the work progressed and the plan inspired confidence, 
more indexers were employed. Hundreds were instructed, 
and the efficient ones retained. Mr. WiUiam Nemos came 
in, and as he quickly mastered the system and displayed 
marked ability in various directions, the indexing and the 
indexers were placed under his supervision. 

The system as perfected and ever since in successful and 
daily operation, I will now describe : 

Forty or fifty leading subjects were selected, such as 
Agriculture, Antiquities, Botany, Biography, Commerce, 



I40 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Drama, Education, Fisheries, Geology, History, Indians, 
Mining, etc., which would embrace all real knowledge, and 
cover the contents of the whole collection, except such parts 
as were irrelevant. For example, a writer's ideas of religion 
were considered of no value, as was anything he saw or did 
outside of our Pacific States territory ; or his personal affairs, 
unless of so striking a character as to command general 
interest. These forty or fifty subjects formed the basis of 
the index, while excluding tons of trash, with which every 
author seems bound in a greater or less degree to dilute his 
writings. 

Now as to the collection of minor subjects or sub-topics 
under the general headings, so as to permit a ready use of 
the material with the least possible friction. The device is at 
once ingenious, simple, and effectual. The lists of subjects 
were so chosen that each might be made to embrace a variety 
of subdivisions. Thus under the head Agriculture are in- 
cluded stock raising, soils, fruits, and all other products of 
farm cultivation. Under Antiquities are included ruins, reHcs, 
hieroglyphics, and all implements and other works of native 
Americans before the coming of the Europeans; also ancient 
history, traditions, migrations, manners and customs before 
the conquest, and speculations, native and European, con- 
cerning the origin of the Americans. The same system was 
observed with Architecture, Art, Bibhography, Biography, 
Ethnology, Jurisprudence, Languages, Manufactures, Medi- 
cine, Meteorology, Mythology, and all the other chief 
subject-headings, including states and localities. A list of 
abbreviations was then made, and the plan was ready for 
application. 

The operation of indexing was as follows : A list of sub- 
jects, with their subdivisions and abbreviations, was placed 
before an assistant, who proceeded to read the book, also 
given him, indexing its contents upon cards of heavy writing 
paper three by five inches in size. When he came to a fact 
bearing on any of the subjects in the list he wrote it on a 
card, each assistant following the same form, so as to produce 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. 141 

uniform results. For example, the top line of all the cards 
was written on this pattern : 

Agric. Cal., Silk Culture, 1867. 

Antiq. Chiapas, Palenque. 

Biog. Cortes (H.) 

Hist. Mexico. 15 19. 

Ind. Nev. Shoshones (Dwellings). 

Ogn. Portland. 1870. 

The second line of each card gave the title of the book, 
with the volume and page where the information was to be 
found ; and, finally, a few words were given denoting the 
character of the information. Herewith I give a specimen 
card complete : 



Ind. Tehuan. Zapotecs. 1847. 

Macgregor, J. Progress of America. London, 1847. 
Vol. I., pp. 848-9. 

Location, Character, Dress, Manufactures. 



Here we have a concise index to a particular fact or piece 
of information. It happens to relate to the aborigines, and 
so falls under the general heading Indians. It has reference 
especially to the natives of Tehuantepec. It is supposed to 
describe them as they were in the year 1847. I^ concerns 
the Zapotec tribe particularly. It has to do with their loca- 
tion, character, dress, and manufactures, and it is to be found 
on pages 848 and 849 of the first volume of a book entitled 
Progress of America^ written by J. Macgregor, and published 
in London in 1847. Of course, when the cards are put 
away in their case all the cards on Indians are brought to- 
gether. Of the Indian cards all those relating to Tehuante- 
pec are brought together. Of the Tehuantepec natives all 
in the library that relate to the Zapotec tribe will be found 
together; and so on. 



142 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Thus the writer is directed at once to all the sources of 
information concerning his subject, and the orderly treating 
of innumerable topics, otherwise impossible, becomes easily- 
practicable. If, for example, a person wishes to study or 
write upon the manners and customs of all the aborigines in- 
habiting the territory covered by the library, he takes all the 
cards of the index bearing the general heading Indians, and 
is by them directed immediately to all the sources of infor- 
mation, which else would take him ten years at least to col- 
lect. If information is desired of Tehuantepec, take the 
Tehuantepec cards ; or if of the Zapotec tribe only, the Zapo- 
tec cards. So it is with any subject relating to mining, his- 
tory, society, or other category within the range of knowledge. 

Thus book by book of the authorities collected was 
passed through the hands of skilled assistants, and with 
checks and counter-checks an immense and comprehensive 
system of indexing was applied to each volume. Physical, 
moral, geographical, historical, from the fibre of an Eskimo's 
hair to the coup de maiire of Cortes, nothing was too insig- 
nificant or too great to find its place there. With the index 
cards before him, the student or writer may turn at once to 
the volume and page desired ; indeed, so simple and yet so 
effectual are the workings of the system that a man may seat 
himself at a bare table and say to a boy, Bring me all that is 
known about the conquest of Darien, the mines of Nevada, 
the missions of Lower California, the agriculture of Oregon, 
the lumber interests of Washington, the state of Sonora, the 
town of Queretaro, or any other information extant, or any 
description regarding any described portion of the western 
half of North America, and straightway, as at the call of a 
magician, such knowledge is spread before him, with the 
volumes opened at the page. Aladdin's lamp could pro- 
duce no such results. That commanded material wealth, but 
here is a sorcery that conjures up the wealth of mind and 
places it at the disposition of the seer. 

Hundreds of years of profitless, uninteresting labor may be 
saved by this simple device ; and a prominent feature of it 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. I43 

is that the index is equally valuable in connection with any 
other library where copies of my material may exist. The 
cost of this index was about thirty-five thousand dollars, but 
its value is not to be measured by money. 

After the explanation given, one would think it easy to 
find men who could make this index. But it was not so. 
Never was there man or woman who looked at it but in- 
stantly knew or thought they knew all about it ; yet nineteen 
out of twenty who attempted it failed. The difficulty was 
this : to be of value, the w^ork must all be done on a uniform 
plan. If one competent person could have done the whole, 
the index would be all the better. But one person could not 
do all ; from five to twenty men were constantly employed 
upon it for years. Many of the books w^ere indexed two or 
three times, owing to the incompetency of those who first 
undertook the task. 

It was extremely difficult to make the indexers comprehend 
what to note and what not. Rules for general guidance 
could be laid down, yet in every instance something must be 
left to the discretion of the individual. All must work to a 
given plan, yet all must use judgment. In attempting this, 
one would adhere so rigidly to rule as to put down a subject- 
heading whenever a mere word was encountered, even though 
unaccompanied by any information. If, for example, the 
sentence occurred, " The machinery of government had not 
yet been set in motion along the Sierra foothills," such an in- 
dexer would make a card under Machinery, to the infinite 
disgust of the investigator of mechanical affairs. At the 
same time, most important facts might be omitted, simply 
because they were not expressed in words which broadly 
pointed to a subject on the list. Then, too, there was much 
difference between men in aptness, some finding it neces- 
sary to plod through every line before grasping the pith 
of the matter, while others acquired such expertness that 
they could tell by merely glancing down a page whether 
it contained any useful information. But by constant ac- 
cessions and eliminations a sufficient number of compe- 



144 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

tent persons was found to carry the work forward to 
completion. 

When a volume was finished the indexer would hand it 
with his cards to Mr. Oak or Mr. Nemos, who glanced over 
the work, testing it here and there to see that it was properly 
done, and then gave out another book. Finally the cards 
were all classified under their distinguishing title,, and placed 
in alphabetical order in upright cupboard-like cases m.ade for 
the purpose. The cases are each about five feet in height, 
four feet in width, and less than six inches in thickness, with 
board partitions, and tin shelves slanting inward to hold the 
cards in place. The partitions are the length of the card 
apart, and the depth of the case is equal to the width of the 
card. In other words, the receptacles were made to fit the 
cards. 

In special work of great magnitude, such as exhaustive 
history, it is necessary to invest the system of indexing with 
greater detail, more as it was first established, mxaking innu- 
merable special references, so that when done and arranged 
according to subject and date, all that has been said by every 
author on every point is brought together in the farm of 
notes. I shall have occasion to refer to this subject again. 

Such was the machinery which we found necessary to con- 
trive in order to extract the desired material from the cumber- 
some mass before us. And by this or other similar means 
alone can the contents of any large library be utilized ; and 
the larger the collection the more necessity for such an index. 
A universal index, applicable to any library, or to the books 
of the world collectively, might be made with incalculable 
advantage to civilization ; but the task would be herculean, 
involving the reading of all the books and manuscripts in 
existence. Such an instrument in the hands of a student may 
be likened to the dart given by Abaris, the Hyperborean 
priest, to Pythagoras, which carried the possessor over rivers 
and mountains whithersoever he listed. This will probably 
never be done, although theoretically the plan is not so pre- 
posterous as might at first glance appear. No individual 



A LITERARY WORKSHOP. I45 

possessed of reason would undertake it as a j/^vate sc'ieme ; 
necessarily it must be a national, or rather an international, 
work; and the number of persons of different climes and 
tongues to be employed would probably prove fatal to it. 
Yet I believe the time will come when all the chief libraries of 
the world will have their indexes. Surely in no other way 
can scholars command the knowledge contained in books; 
and as books multiply, the necessity increases. ^y 



CHAPTER XI. 

MY FIRST BOOK. 

Two strong angels stand by the side of History as heraldic support- 
ers : the angel of research on the left hand, that must read millions of 
dusty parchments, and of pages blotted with lies ; the angel of medita- 
tation on the right hand, that must cleanse these lying records with fire, 
even as of old the draperies of asbestos were cleansed, and must quicken 
them into regenerated life. — De Quince y, 

HOW many of the works of authors may be attributed 
purely to accident ! Had not Shakespeare been a play- 
actor we might have had no Shakespeare's plays. Had not 
Bunyan been imprisoned and Milton blind we might look in 
vain for the Pilgrim's Progress and Pai^adise Lost, Robert 
Pearse Gillies says of Sir Walter Scott, " I have always been 
persuaded that had he not chanced, and in those days it was 
a rare chance, to get some German lessons from a competent 
professor, and had he not also chanced to have Leiiora and 
The Wild Huntsma7i played before him as exercises, we 
should never have had The Lay of the Last Minstrel ox The 
Lady of the Lake,'' More than any other one effort, Thack- 
eray's writing for Punch taught him wherein his strength lay. 
The great satirist at the beginning of his literary career was 
not successful, and it is a question whether he ever would 
have been but for a certain train of circumstances which 
crowded appHcation upon his genius. Apelles, unable to 
delineate to his satisfaction the foam of Alexander's horse, 
dashed his brush against the canvas in angry despair, when 
lo! upon the picture, effected thus by accident, appeared 
what had baffled his most cunning skill. Turning-points in 
life are not always mere accident. Often they are the result 

146 



MY FIRST BOOK. I47 

of teachings or inborn aspirations, and always they are fraught 
with some moral lesson of special significance. 

Although my Native Races cannot be called a chance crea- 
tion, its publication as my first work was purely accident. 
Following my general plan, w^hich was a series of works on 
the western half of North America, I must of necessity treat 
of the aborigines at some time. But now, as ever, I was in- 
tent only on history, whose fascinations increased with my 
ever-increasing appreciation of its importance. All our learn- 
ing we derive from the past. To-day is the pupil of yester- 
day, this year of last year; drop by drop the activities of 
each successive hour are distilled from the experiences of the 
centuries. 

And the moment was so opportune. Time enough had 
elapsed for these western shores to have a history, yet not 
enough, since civilization lighted here, for any considerable 
part of that history to be lost. Then, strange as it may seem, 
from the depths of despair I would sometimes rise to the firm 
conviction that with my facilities and determined purpose I 
could not only do this work, but that I could save to these 
Pacific States more of their early incidents than had been pre- 
served to other nations ; that I could place on record annals 
exceptionally complete and truthful ; that I could write a his- 
tory which as a piece of thorough work, if unaccompanied 
by any other good quality, would command a place among 
the histories of the world. 

Nor was the idea necessarily the offspring of egotism. I 
do not say that I regarded this country as the greatest whose 
history had ever been written, or myself as an able historian. 
Far, very far from it. There were here no grand evolutions 
or revolutions of mankind, no mighty battles afiecting the 
world's political balance, no ten centuries of darkness and 
stationary torpidity, no pageantry of kings, or diplomacy of 
statesmen, or craft of priestly magnates with which to embel- 
lish my pages and stir to glowing admiration the interest of 
my readers. The incidents of history here were in a meas- 
ure tame, and for that reason all the more difficult of dra- 



148 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

matic presentation. The wars of conquest were mostly with 
savages, or with nations palsied by superstition; and since 
the conquest no such spasms of progress have been made 
as to command the world's attention or admiration for any 
length of time. Not that fighting is the fittest subject for 
record, or that without social convulsions the nation has no 
history. The time has come when war should be deemed 
the deepest disgrace, a brutal method of settling differences, 
and the evolution of arts, industries, and intellect the fairest 
flowers of progress. That which is constant is history, that 
which is elevating and ennobling, no less than debasing war 
and social disruptions. The philosophic or didactic writer 
of the present day is of opinion that to form correct concep- 
tions of a people one should know something of the state of 
the society and institutions that evolved them. The devel- 
opment of a nation's institutions, their structure and func- 
tions, are of no less importance than a narrative of a nation's 
fortunes in other respects, or the sayings and doings of its 
great men. Yet, if ever fancy whispered I could write well, 
I had but to read a page of Shakespeare, whose pencil was 
dipped in colors of no earthly extraction, and whose every 
finished sentence is a string of pearls, and the fountains of 
my ambition would dwindle to insignificance. What were 
my miserable efforts beside the conceptions of a Dante, the 
touch of a Dore, the brilliant imagery of a St. John ! How 
powerful are words to him who can handle them, and yet 
how insignificant in the hands of weaklings to describe these 
subtile shades of human qualities ! What are the many thou- 
sand different words, made by the various combinations of 
the twenty-six letters of the alphabet, and of which mxany 
more might be made, since the possible combination of these 
words into others and into sentences is practically infinite — 
what are all these word-fitting possibilities in the hands of a 
bungler, or of one who lacks the ideas to call them forth 
and array them ? And yet, were the scope of human lan- 
guage a thousand times more varied, and should there arise 
one capable of wielding this enlarged vocabulary, the varied 



MY FIRST BOOK. 149 

thought and feeUng incident to humanity would still be but 
inadequately expressed. 

Not only the thoughts of a great poet but the language in 
which his thoughts are clothed displays his genius. Under- 
take to express his ideas in w^ords of your own, and you will 
find its essence evaporated. Coleridge says you " might as 
well think of pushing a brick out of the wall with your fore- 
finger as attempt to remove a word out of any of the finished 
passages of Shakespeare.'* Becom.e possessed with an idea, 
and you will then find language according to your ability to 
express it; it is poverty of ideas that makes men complain 
of the poverty of language. In the writings of Shakespeare 
imagination and experience, wisdom, wit, and charity, com- 
mingle and play upon and into each other until simple words 
glow like fire illuminated by supernatural significance. 

And as thought becomes elevated, the simpler and plainer 
becomes expression. The seed of eloquence lies in the con- 
ception of the thought, and the simplicity with which it is ex- 
pressed gives the sublime soul-stirring power. It is significant 
that the books which have held their highest place in literature 
for centuries have been written in the purest and simplest Saxon. 
The English language as used by Shakespeare and Milton 
shows amazing strength, flexibility, delicacy, and harmony. 

Thus the billows of despondency passed over me, and at 
times it seemed as if my life and all my labors were empty 
air. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of my task, I sat for 
hours and brooded, heart-sick and discouraged. What 
profiteth me this heavy labor ? My mind is vapid, my nerves 
unstrung; I have not the strength, physical or intellectual, 
for a work of such magnitude. I may succeed or I may fail. 
In either case some will approve, others will ridicule. And 
what is approval or ridicule to me ? Even if success comes, 
what good will it do me? I must toil on, denying myself 
companionship; I must deprive myself of every pleasure, 
even of the blessed air and sunshine, the sweetest gifts of 
nature, and which are freely bestowed upon the meanest of 



150 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

created things. These and nine tenths of the joys of associ- 
ation and recreation I must yield to musty books and dusty 
garret; I must hug this heaviness, and all because of an idea. 
All the powers of mind and body must be made captive 
to this one purpose; passion, prejudice, and pleasure, where 
they interfere. And yet must the worker often grope in vain 
for the power of mental concentration, while progress laughs 
mockingly. For such work, such self-denial, I cannot take 
my pay in praise. There must be some higher, some nobler 
aim. Ah! these failures, these heart-sicknesses. But w^rite! 
write! write! The fiend is at my elbow and I must write. 
Maudlin stuff it may be, but I must write it down. Death 
alone can deliver me from these toils, can open a current for 
my stagnant thoughts and leaden sensibilities. Still my 
prayer shall be. Let me die like Plato, at my table, pen in 
hand, and be buried among the scenes of my labors. 

There have been men, and many of them, who felt that 
they must write, and yet who wrote with difficulty, and from 
no desire for fame, who wrote neither from a pretended anx- 
iety to make men better, nor under necessity. Why, then, 
did they write ? Perhaps from the pressure of genius, perhaps 
from a lack of common sense. No person knows less of the 
stuff he is made of than he who takes pen in hand and has 
nothing to say. 

What profiteth it me ? again I ask. Money ? I shall die 
a poor man, and my children will have only their father^s folly 
for an inheritance. Does God pay for such endeavor ? I 
should have more heart did I but feel assured of some com- 
pensation hereafter, for this life seems almost lost to me. But 
even such assurance is denied me. Posthumous fame is but 
a phantom, the off-float from scarcely more solid contempo- 
raneous opinion, the ghost of a man's deeds. In looking over 
my writings I sometimes doubt whom I serve most, Christ or 
Behal, or whether either will acknowledge me his servant. 
And yet the half is not told, for if it were, with the good Cid 
Hamete I might be applauded less for what I have written 
than for what I have omitted to write. 



MY FIRST BOOK. 151 

Before my cooler judgment my self-imposed task presented 
itself in this form : Next after gathering the material was the 
power of handling it. From being slave of all this knowledge, 
I must become master. This was already accomphshed in 
part by means of the index, as before explained, which placed 
at my command whatever my authors had said on any subject. 
To know anything perfectly, one must know many things 
perfectly. Then surely with all the evidence extant on any 
historical point or incident before me I should be able with 
sufficient study and thought to determine the truth, and in 
plain language to write it down. My object seemed to be the 
pride and satisfaction it would afford me to improve some- 
what the records of my race, save something of a nation's 
history, which but for me would drop into oblivion ; to catch 
from the mouths of living witnesses, just ready to take their 
final departure, important facts explaining new incidents and 
strange experiences ; to originate and perfect a system by 
which means alone this history could be gathered and written ; 
to lay the corner-stone of this fair land's literature while the 
land was yet young and ambitious. Hereupon turns all pro- 
gress, all human advancement. One of the main differences 
between civilization and savagery is that one preserves its ex- 
periences as they accumulate and the other does not. Sav- 
agery ceases to be savagery and becomes civilization the 
moment the savage begins a record of events. 

Mine was a great work that could be performed by a small 
man. As Beaumarchais says : " Mediocre et rampant, et 
Ton arrive a tout." Vigorous and persistent effort for twenty 
or thirty years, with sufficient self-abnegation, a liberal out- 
lay of money, and an evenly balanced mind, not carried 
away by its enthusiasm, could accomplish more at this time 
than would be later possible under any circumstances. And 
although in my efforts, like the eagle, which mistook the bald 
head of ^schylus for a stone, I sometimes endeavored to crack 
the shell of my tortoise on the wrong subject; and although 
much of the time the work was apparently stationary, yet in 
reality like a glacier it was slowly furrowing for itself a path. 



152 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

" Good aims not always make good books," says Mrs. 
Browning. So with mind well tempered and ambition held 
in strict control, I determined to work and wait. Some men 
live in their endeavors. Unless they have before them intri- 
cate work they are not satisfied. The moment one difficult 
undertaking is accomplished they straightway pine for an- 
other. Great pleasure is felt in finishing a tedious and difficult 
piece of work, but long before one was done by me I had a 
dozen other tedious and difficult pieces planned. Early in 
my efforts the conquest of Mexico attracted my attention. 
This brilliant episode lay directly in my path or I never 
should have had the audacity to grapple with it after the 
graceful and philosophic pen of Prescott had traced its his- 
tory. This story of the conquest possessed me with a thrilling 
interest ; and before me lay not only the original authorities, 
with much new and unused collateral information, but com- 
plete histories of that epoch, in EngHsh, Spanish, French, 
Italian, and German — careful histories from able and elo- 
quent pens. These might be the guide of the literary fledg- 
ling. Ah ! there was the trouble. Had there been any need 
for such a work ; had the work not been done better than I 
could hope to do it; had I not these bright examples all 
before me, seemingly in derision of my puny efforts, I should 
have been better able to abstract the facts and arrange them 
in readable order. 

My first concern was the manner of fitting words together ; 
the facts seemed for the moment of secondary consideration. 
To array in brilliant colors empty ideas was nearer model 
history- writing than the sharpest philosophy in homely garb. 
The consequence was, this mountain of my ambition after 
hard labor brought forth a few chapters of sententious noth- 
ings, which a second writing seemed only to confuse yet 
more, and which after many sighings and heart-sinkings I 
tore up, and cleared my table of authorities on the grand 
conquest. The result brought to my mind the experience of 
Kant, who for the second edition of his Critique of Pure 
Reason re- wrote some parts of it in order to give them greater 



MY FIRST BOOK. 1 53 

perspicuity, though in reality the explanation was more 
enigmatical than what had been first written. 

Now, I said, will I begin at the beginning, where I should 
have begun. The Pacific States territory, as by this time I 
had it marked, extended south to the Atrato river, so as to 
include the whole of the Isthmus of Darien. I would notice 
the first appearance of the Spaniards along these shores. I 
would make my first volume the conquest of Darien, bring- 
ing the history down from the discovery by Columbus and 
the first touching of the North American continent at the 
isthmus by Rodrigo de Bastidas in 1501, to about the year 
1530, to be followed by a chapter on the expedition of 
Pizarro from Panama to Peru. 

So I entered upon a thorough study of the discovery of 
America, of society and civilization in Europe at and prior 
to the discovery ; paying particular attention to Spanish char- 
acter and institutions. At this time I was almost wholly 
occupied in handling the ideas of others ; but it was not long 
before I began to have ideas of my own ; just as Spinoza in 
writing a synopsis of the system of Descartes threw into the 
principles of Cartesian philosophy much original thought and 
speculation while scarcely conscious of it. I wrote a long 
dissertation for what I conceived a fit introduction to a his- 
tory of the Pacific States. To follow this introduction, with 
some assistance I prepared a summary of voyages and dis- 
covery from the earliest times to about 1540. 

Over these two summaries I labored long and faithfully, 
spending fully six months on them with all the assistance I 
could utilize. Oftentimes work arose v/here assistance was 
impracticable ; I could perform it better alone ; with a dozen 
good men at my elbow I have nevertheless written many 
volumes alone, taking out all notes myself, because I could 
not profitably employ assistants. And further than this, I 
often carried on no less than four or five distinct works pari 
passu. 

To my help in writing this introduction I called a man 
well informed in all mediaeval knowledge. In all science and 



154 LITERARY INDUSTRIES, 

regarding all schools his opinions were modern, yet he could 
readily explain the theories of those who held opposite doc- 
trines. Surely, I thought, in preparing such an essay as I 
desired, such a person would be invaluable. So I instructed 
him to study the subject, particularly that part of it relating 
to literature, language, and learning, with the view of his 
gathering some pertinent facts for me. He read, and read, 
eagerly devouring all he could lay hands on. And he would 
have continued reading to this day had I been willing to 
pay him his salary for it. He liked to read. And I said to 
myself, surely, as the result of such enthusiasm I shall have a 
bushel of invaluable notes. 

Meanwhile I labored hard myself, studying carefully over 
two hundred volumes bearing upon the subject, taking notes 
and committing my ideas to paper. The trouble was — as 
was always the trouble — to limit the sketch, yet make it 
symmetrical and complete. Occasionally I would urge my 
assistant to bring his investigations to some practical result, 
for after reading two months he had not half a dozen pages 
of written matter to show. 

" Let me get it fairly into my head," said he, " and I will 
soon commit it to paper." 

And so for another month he continued reading, until I 
became tired of it, and told him plainly to give me what he 
had gathered and leave the subject. A fortnight later he 
handed me about thirty pages of commonplace information, 
in which there was hardly a note that proved any addition to 
my own researches. And this was the result of his three 
months' hard work, for he really applied himself diligently 
to the task, and thought all the time that he was making pro- 
gress until he came to 'the summing up, which disappointed 
him as much as myself. While engaged in the study his mind 
had absorbed a vast amount of information, which might 
some time prove valuable to him, but was of no use to me. 
And so it often happened, particularly at the first, and before 
I had applied a thorough system of drilling; months and 
years were vainly spent by able men in the effort to extract 



MY FIRST BOOK. 1 55 

material for me. With regard to the introduction, as was yet 
often the case, I had vague conceptions only of what I should 
require, for the reason that I could not tell what shape the 
subject would assume when wrought out. This was the case 
with many a chapter or volume. Its character I could not 
altogether control ; nay, rather than control it I would let 
fact have free course, and record only as directed by the sub- 
ject itself. One is scarcely fit to write upon a subject until 
one has written much upon it. That which is I would re- 
cord; yet that which is may be differently understood by 
different persons. I endeavored always to avoid planting 
myself upon an opinion, and saying thus and so it is, and shall 
be, all incidental and collateral facts being warped accord- 
ingly ; rather would I write the truth, let the result be what 
it might. 

He who aims at honesty will never leave a subject on which 
he discourses without an effort at a judicial view, or without 
an attempt to separate himself from his subject and to marshal 
the arguments on the other side. He will contradict his own 
statement, and demur to his conclusions, until the matter is 
so thoroughly sifted in his own mind that a highly prejudiced 
view would be improbable. He who warps fact or fails to 
give evidence against himself is not entitled to our respect. 
The writer of exact history must lay aside, so far as possible, 
his emotional nature. Knowing that his judgment is liable 
to prejudice, and that it is impossible to be always conscious 
of its presence, he will constantly suspect himself and rigidly 
review his work. If there was one thing David Hume piqued 
himself on more than another, it w^as his freedom from bias ; 
and yet the writings of no historian uncover more glaring 
prejudices than do his in certain places. A classicist of the 
Diderot and Voltaire school, he despised too heartily the 
writings of the monkish chroniclers to examine them. Macau- 
lay sacrificed truthfulness to an epigrammatic style. It has 
always been my custom to examine carefully authorities cur- 
rently held of Httle or no value. Not that I ever derived, or 
expected to derive, much benefit from them, but it was a 



156 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

satisfaction to know everything that had been written on the 
subject I was treating. And as for bias, though not pretend- 
ing to be free from it — who that Hves is ? — yet were I ever 
knowingly to reach the point where pride of opinion was 
preferred before truth, I should wish from that moment to lay 
down my pen. 

The introduction to my history was exclusively my own 
theme; in some subjects others might to some extent partici- 
pate with me, but not in this. Hence, during the fourteen 
weeks my really talented assistant was floundering in a sea 
of erudition, with little or nothing available in the end to 
show for it, I myself had taken out material from which I 
easily wrote three hundred pages, though after twice re- 
arranging and re-writing I reduced it one half, eliminated 
half of what was left, and printed the remainder. 

And now was fully begun this new life of mine, the old hfe 
being dead; a sea of unborn experiences which I prayed 
might be worth the sailing over, else might I as well have 
ceased to be ere myself embarking. This change of life was 
as the birth of a new creature, a baptism in a new atmo- 
sphere. With the chrysalis of business was left the ambition 
of ordinary acquisition, so that the intellect might rise into 
the glorious sunshine of nobler acquisition. The wealth which 
might minister to sensual gratification was made to subserve 
the wealth of intellectual gratification. Literature is its own 
recompense. "The reward of a good sentence is to have 
written it," says Higginson. And again, " The literary man 
must lo verbis art, as the painter must love painting, out of all 
proportion to its rewards; or rather, the delight of the v/ork 
must be its own reward." Whatever I undertook to do 
seemed long, interminably long it seemed to me. In the 
grammar of mankind it requires nearly half a century of 
study to learn that the present tense of life is now. Nay, not 
only is the present tense now, but the present is the only tense; 
the past for us is gone; the future, who shall say that it is his? 

I had now become fully imbued with the idea that there 
was a work to do, and that this was my work. T entered 



MY FIRST BOOK. 157 

upon it with relish, and as I progressed it satisfied me. 
Following a fit of despondency, a triumph was like the danc- 
ing of light on the icy foliage after a gloomy storm. In plan- 
ning and executing, in loading my mind and discharging it 
on paper, in finding outlet and expression to pent-up thought, 
in the healthful exercise of my mental faculties, I found relief 
such as I had never before experienced, relief from the cor- 
roding melancholy of stifled aspirations, and a pleasure more 
exquisite than any I had hitherto dreamed of. There is a 
pivot on which man's happiness and unhappiness not unevenly 
balance. How keen this enjoyment after an absence or break 
of any kind in my labors ! Back to my work, my beloved 
work, surrounded by wife and children; away from hates and 
heart-burnings, from brutish snarlings, law courts, and rounds 
of dissipating society; back to the labor that fires the brain 
and thrills the heart. 

Though ever steadfast in my purpose, I was often obliged 
to change my plans. I kept on, however, at the history until 
I had completed the first volume, until I had written fully 
the conquest of Darien and the conquest of Peru — until I 
had rewritten the volume, the first writing not suiting mc 
This I did, taking out even most of the notes myself. But 
long before I had finished this volum^e I became satisfied that 
something must be done with the aborigines. Wherever I 
touched the continent with my Spaniards they were there, a 
dusky, disgusting subject. I did not fancy them. I would 
gladly have avoided them. I was no archaeologist, ethnolo- 
gist, or antiquary, and had no desire to become such. My 
tastes in the matter, however, did not dispose of the subject. 
The savages were there, and there was no help for me; I 
must write them up to get rid of them. 

Nor was their proper place the general history, or any of 
the several parts thereof; nor was it the place to speak of 
them where first encountered. It would not do to break off 
a narrative of events in order to describe the manners and 
customs, or the language, or the mythology of a native 
nation. The reader should know something of both peoples 



158 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

thus introduced to each other before passing the introduction ; 
he should know all about them. 

Once settled that the natives must be described in a work 
set apart for them, the question arose, How should they be 
treated ? Uppermost in the mind when the words " Indian " 
and " Digger " appeared were the ragged, half-starved, and 
half-drunken prowlers round the outskirts of civilization, 
cooped in reservations or huddled in missions; and a book 
on them would treat of their thefts, massacres, and capture. 
Little else than raids, fightings, and exterminations we heard 
concerning them; these, coupled with opprobrious epithets 
which classed them as cattle rather than as human beings, 
tended in no wise to render the subject fascinating to me. 

In fact the subject was not popularly regarded as very 
interesting, unless formed into a bundle of thrilling tales, and 
that was exactly what I would not do. Battles and adven- 
tures belonged to history proper ; here was required all that 
we could learn of them before the coming of the Europeans : 
some history, all that they had, but mostly description. They 
should be described as they stood in all their native glory, 
and before the withering hand of civilization was laid upon 
them. They should be described as they were first seen by 
Europeans along the several paths of discovery, by the con- 
querors of Darien, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and 
Mexico, during the first half of the sixteenth century ; by the 
missionaries to the north ; by the American fur-hunters, the 
French Canadian trappers, the Hudson's Bay Company's 
servants, and the Russian voyagers and seal- catchers on the 
shores of Alaska ; also by circumnavigators and travellers in 
various parts — thus the plan presented itself to my mind. 

As a matter of course, much personal investigation in such 
a work was impossible. For the purpose of studying the 
character and customs of hundreds of nations and tribes I 
could not spend a lifetime with each; and to learn the six 
hundred and more dialects which I found on these shores was 
impracticable, even had they all been spoken at the time of 
my investigations. I must take the word of those who had 



MY FIRST BOOK. 159 

lived among these people, and had learned during the three 
centuries of their discovering whatever was known of them. 

Spreading the subject before me with hardly any other 
guide than practical common-sense, I resolved the question 
into its several divisions. What is it we wish to know about 
these people ? I asked myself. First, their appearance, the 
color of the skin, the texture of the hair, form, features, phy- 
sique. Then the houses in which they lived, the food they 
ate, how they built their houses, and obtained and preserved 
their food, their implements and weapons, their ornaments 
and dress ; what constituted wealth with them ; their govern- 
ment, laws, and religious institutions ; the power and position 
of rulers, and the punishment of crimes ; the arts and intel- 
lectual advancement; family relations, husband and wife,, 
children, slaves ; the position of woman, including courtship, 
marriage, polygamy, childbirth, and chastity ; their amuse- 
ments, dances, games, feasts, bathing, smoking, drinking, 
gambling, racing ; their diseases, treatment of the sick, medi- 
cine-men ] their mourning, burial, and many other like topics 
relating to life and society among these unlettered denizens 
of this blooming wilderness. 

Manners and customs being the common term employed 
by ethnologists for such description, unable to find, after 
careful study and consideration of the question, a better one, 
I adopted it. The first division of my subject, then, was the 
manners and customs of these peoples. But here a difficulty 
arose. In points of intellectual growth and material progress, 
of relative savagery and civilization, there were such wide 
differences between the many nations of the vast Pacific sea- 
board that to bring them all together would make an incon- 
gruous mass, and to fit them to one plan w^ould be far-fetched 
and impracticable. 

For example, there were the snake-eating Shoshones of 
Utah, and the cloth-makers and land-tillers of the Pueblo 
towns of New Mexico; there were the blubber-eating 
dwellers of the subterranean dens of Alaska, and the civilized 
city -builders of the Mexican table-land; the coarse, brutal 



l6o LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

inhabitants of British Columbia, and the refined and intelligent 
Mayas and Quiches of Central America. What had these in 
common to be described more than Arab, Greek, and African ? 

Obviously there must be some division. The subject 
could not be handled in such a form. Whatever might be 
their relation as regards the great continental divisions of the 
human family, the terms race and species as applied to the 
several American nations I soon discovered to be meaning- 
less. As convincing arguments might be advanced to prove 
them of one race as of twenty, of three as of forty. Some 
call the Eskimos one race, and all the rest in America from 
Hudson's Bay to Tierra del Fuego one race. Some segregate 
the Aztecs; others distinguish the Californians as Malays, 
. and the natives of Brazil as Africans. I soon perceived that 
ethnologists still remained mystified and at variance, and I 
resolved not to increase" the confusion. 

This I could do : I could group them geographically, and 
note physique, customs, institutions, beliefs, and, most im- 
portant of all, languages ; then he who would might classify 
them according to race and species. In all my work I was 
determined to keep upon firm ground, to avoid meaningless 
and even technical terms, to avoid theories, speculations, and 
superstitions of every kind, and to deal only in facts. This 
I relied on more than on any other one thing. My work 
could not be wholly worthless if I gathered only facts, and 
arranged them in some form which should bring them within 
reach of those who had not access to my material, or who 
could not use it if they had ; whereas theories might be over- 
thrown as worthless. I had not studied long the many ques- 
tions arising from a careful survey of the material brought 
forth and arranged for my Native Races before I became 
aware that many things which were long since supposed to 
be settled were not settled, and much which I would be ex- 
pected to decide never could be decided by any one. The 
more I thought of these things the stronger became an in- 
herent repugnance to positiveness in cases where nothing 
was positive. 



MY FIRST BOOK. l6l 

Many complained because I did not settle insoluble ques- 
tions for them, because I did not determine beyond perad- 
venture the origin of the Americans, where they came from, 
who their fathers were, and who made them. But far more 
found this absence of vain and tiresome speculation com- 
mendable. 

Finally, after much deliberation to enable me to grasp the 
subject which lay spread over such a vast territory, I con- 
cluded to divide manners and customs into two parts, making 
of the wild or savage tribes one division, and of the civilized 
nations another. The civilized nations all lay together in 
two main families, the Nahuas of central Mexico and the 
Mayas of Central America. The savage tribes, however, 
extended from the extreme north to the extreme southern 
limits of our Pacific States territory, completely surrounding 
the civilized nations. The wild tribes, therefore, must be 
grouped ; and I could think of no better plan than to adopt 
arbitrarily territorial divisions, never dividing, however, a 
nation, tribe, or family that seemed clearly one. There were 
the Pueblos of New Mexico, who could be placed among the 
savage or civilized nations according to convenience. I placed 
them among the wild tribes, though they were as far in ad- 
vance of the Nootkas of Vancouver Island as the Mayas were 
in advance of the Pueblos. Indeed, like most of these ex- 
pressions, the terms savage and civilized are purely relative. 
Where is the absolute savage on the face of the earth to-day; 
where the man absolutely perfect in his civilization ? What 
we call civilization is not a fixed state, but an irresistible and 
eternal moving onward. 

The groupings I at last adopted for the Manners and Cus- 
toms of the Wild Tribes were : Beginning at the extreme north, 
all those nations lying north of the fifty-fifth parallel I called, 
arbitrarily. Hyperboreans ; to those whose lands were drained 
by the Columbia river and its tributaries I gave the name Cohwt- 
biaiis; the Californians included in their division the inhab- 
itants of the great basin ; then there were the New Mexicans^ 
the Wild Tribes of Mexico^ and the Wild Tribes of Central 
II 



1 62 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

America, There was no special reason in beginning at the 
north rather than at the south. Indeed, in treating the sub- 
ject of antiquities I began at the south, but this was partly 
because the chief monumental remains were in Central 
America and Mexico, and few of importance north of Mexico. 
And there were other topics to be examined, such as lan- 
guages, myths, and architectural remains; and the civilized 
nations had their own written history to be given. 

It was my purpose to lay before the world absolutely all 
that was known of these peoples at the time of the appear- 
ing among them of their European exterminators. All real 
knowledge of them I would present, and their history, so far 
as they had a history. I had little to say of the aborigines or 
their deeds since the coming of the Europeans, of their wars 
against invaders and among themselves; of repartimientos, 
presidios, missions, reservations, and other institutions for 
their conquest, conversion, protection, or oppression. My 
reason for this was that all these things, so far as they pos- 
sessed importance, belonged to the modern history of the 
country where they were to receive attention. The wild 
tribes in the absence of written records had very little his- 
tory, and that Httle was mingled with the crudest of super- 
natural conceptions. 

Besides these several branches of the subject I could think 
of no others. These included all that related in any wise to 
their temporalities or their spiritualities; everything relating 
to mind, soul, body, and estate, language, and literature. 
The last mentioned subjects, namely, myths, languages, 
antiquities, and history, I thought best to treat separately, 
and for the following reasons : The myths of these peoples, 
their strange conceptions of their origin, their deities, and 
their future state, would present a much more perfect and 
striking picture placed together where they might the better 
be analyzed and compared. And so with languages and the 
others. These might or might not be taken up territorially; 
in this respect I would be governed by the subject-matter at 
the time I treated it. It resulted that as a rule they were so 



MY FIRST BOOK. 163 

treated; that is, beginning at one end or the other of the 
territory and proceeding systematically to the other end. 
Myths and languages both begin at the north; antiquities 
proceed from the south ; history is confined mostly to the 
table-lands of Mexico and Central America, and had no 
need of territorial treatment. 

All this I hoped to condense, at the outset, into two vol- 
umes, the first of which would comprise the manners and 
customs of both savage and civilized tribes, the other divisions 
filling the second volume. But I soon saw that, after the 
severest and most persistent compressing, the manners and 
customs of the wild tribes alone would fill a volume. In 
each of the six great territorial divisions of this branch of the 
subject there was much in common with all the rest. A cus- 
tom or characteristic once mentioned was seldom again 
described, differences only being noticed ; but in every nation 
there was much which, though generally similar to like 
characteristics in other tribes, so differed in minor if not in 
main particulars as to demand a separate description. Hence 
I was obliged either to take more space or to let the varying 
customs go unnoticed, and the latter course I could not make 
up my mind to adopt. 

So the first volume became two almost at the outset ; for it 
was soon apparent that the portraiture of the civilized nations 
— a description of their several eras ; their palaces, house- 
holds, and government ; their castes and classes, slaves, tenure 
of land, and taxation ; their education, marriage, concubinage, 
childbirth, and baptism ; their feasts and amusements ; their 
food, dress, commerce, and war customs ; their laws and law 
courts, their arts and manufactures ; their calendar and picture- 
writing ; their architecture, gardens, medicines, funeral rites, 
and the like — would easily fill a volume. 

Proceeding further in the work it was ascertained that myths 
and languages would together require a volume ; that the sub- 
ject of antiquities, with the necessary three or four hundred 
illustrations, would occupy a volume, and that the primitive 
history of the Nahuas and Mayas, with which Brasseur de 



164 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Bourbourg filled four volumes, could not be properly written 
in less than one. 

Thus we see the two volumes swollen to five, even then 
one of the principal difficulties in the work being to confine 
the ever swelling subjects within these rigidly prescribed limits. 
So great is the tendency, so much easier is it, when one has 
an interesting subject, to write it out and revel in description, 
rather than to cramp it into a sometimes distorting compass, 
that whatever I take up is almost sure to overrun the first 
calculations. 

Five volumes, then, comprised the Native Races of the 
Pacific States: the first being the Wild Tribes, their manners 
and customs ; the second, the Civilized Nations of Mexico 
and Central America; the third. Myths and Languages of 
both savage and civilized nations; the fourth, Antiquities, 
including Architectural remains ; and the fifth, Primitive His- 
tory and Migrations. A copious index, filling one hundred 
and sixty-two pages, and referring alphabetically to each of 
the ten or twelve thousand subjects mentioned in the five 
volumes, completed the work. 

Maps showing the locations of the aborigines according 
to their nation, family, and tribe, were introduced wherever 
necessary, the first volume containing six, one for each of the 
great territorial divisions. 

Such was the plan; now as to the execution. As the 
scheme was entirely my own, as I had consulted with no one 
outside of the library about it, and with my assistants but 
little, I had only to work it out after my own fashion. 

The questions of race and species settled, to my own satis- 
faction at least, in an Ethnological Introduction, which con- 
stitutes the first chapter of the first volume, I brought together 
for following chapters all the material touching the first main 
division, the Hyperboreans, and proceeded to abstract it. It 
was somewhat confusing to me at first to determine the sub- 
jects to be treated and the order in which I should name 
them ; but sooner than I had anticipated there arose in my 
mind what I conceived to be natural sequence in all these 



MY FIRST BOOK. 165 

things, and there was little difficulty or hesitation. Above 
all things I sought simplicity in style, substance, and arrange- 
ment, fully realizing that the more easily I could make myself 
understood, the better my readers would be pleased. 

One of the most difficult parts of the work was to locate 
the tribes and compile the maps. Accurately to define the 
boundaries of primitive nations, much of the time at war and 
migrating with the seasons, is impossible, from the fact that, 
although they aim to have the limits of their lands well de- 
fined, these boundaries are constantly shifting. The best I 
could do was to take out all information relative to the loca- 
tion of every tribe, bring together what each author had said 
upon the different peoples, and print it in his own language, 
under the heading Tribal Boundaries, in small type at the 
end of every chapter. 

Thus there were as many of these sections on tribal boun- 
daries as there were divisions ; and from these I had drawn a 
large ethnographical map of the whole Pacific States, from 
which were engraved the subdivisions inserted at the begin- 
ning of each section. In this way every available scrap 
of material in existence was used and differences as far as 
possible were reconciled. 

When my first division was wholly written I submitted it 
in turn to each of my principal assistants, and invited their 
criticism, assuring them that I should be best pleased with 
him who could find most fault with it. A number of sug- 
gestions were made, some of which I acted on. In general 
the plan as first conceived was carried out ; and to-day I do 
not see how it could be changed for the better. I then ex- 
plained to my assistants how I had reached the results, and 
giving to each a division I requested them in like manner to 
gather and arrange the material, and place it before me in 
the best form possible for my use. During the progress of 
this work I succeeded in utilizing the labors of my assistants 
to the full extent of my anticipations ; indeed, it was neces- 
sary I should do so. Otherwise from a quarter to a half 
century would have been occupied in this one work. With- 



l66 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

out taking into account the indexing of thousands of volumes 
merely to point out where material existed, or the collecting 
of the material, there was in each of these five volumes the 
work of fifteen men for eight months, or of one man for ten 
years. This estimate, I say, carefully made after the work 
was done, showed that there had been expended on the 
Native Races labor equivalent to the well directed efibrts of 
one man, every day, Sundays excepted, from eight o'clock in 
the morning till six at night, for a period of fifty years. In 
this estimate I do not include the time lost in unsuccessful 
experiments, but only the actual time employed in taking out 
the material, writing the work, preparing the index for the 
five volumes, which alone was one year's labor, proof-reading, 
and comparison with authorities. The last two requirements 
consumed an immense amount of time, the proof being read 
eight or nine times, and every reference compared with the 
original authority after the work was in type. This seemed 
to me necessary to insure accuracy, on account of the many 
foreign languages- in which the authorities were written, and 
the multitude of native and strange words which crowded my 
pages. Both text and notes were rewritten, compared, and 
corrected without limit, until they were supposed to be per- 
fect; and I venture to say that never a work of that character 
and magnitude went to press finally with fewer errors. 

Fifty years ! I had not so many to spare upon this work. 
Possibly I might die before the time had expired or the vol- 
umes were completed ; and what should I do with the two 
or three hundred years' additional work that was already 
planned ? 

When the oracle informed Mycerinus that he had but six 
years to live, he thought to outwit the gods by making the 
night ^s day. Lighting his lamps at nightfall he feasted 
until morning, thus striving to double his term. I must 
multiply my days in some way to do this work. I had at- 
tempted the trick of Mycerinus, but it would not succeed 
with me, for straightway the outraged deities ordained that 
for every hour so stolen I must repay fourfold. The work 



MY FIRST BOOK. l6^ 

of my assistants, besides saving me an immense amount of 
drudgery and manual labor, left my mind always fresh, and 
open to receive and retain the subject as a whole. I could 
institute comparisons and indulge in generalizations more 
freely, and I believe more effectually, than with my mind 
overwhelmed by a mass of detail. I do not know how far 
others have carried this system. Herbert Spencer, I beheve, 
derived much help from assistants. German authors have 
the faculty of multiplying their years with the aid of others 
in a greater degree than any other people. Besides having 
scholars in various parts of the country at work for him, 
Bunsen employed five or six secretaries. Professors in the 
German universities are most prolific authors, and almost to 
a man they have each the assistance of one or two students. 
Thus says Hurst : " While the real author is responsible 
for every word that goes out under his own name, and can 
justly claim the parentage of the whole idea, plan, and scope 
of the work, he is spared much of the drudgery incident to 
all book-making w^hich is not the immediate first fruit of 
imagination. Where history is to be ransacked, facts to be 
grouped, and matters of pure detail to be gleaned from 
various sources, often another could do better service than 
the author." The young Germans who thus assist authors 
highly prize the discipline by means of which they often be- 
come authors themselves. At Halle, during his half century 
of labor, Tholuck had several theological students at work 
for him, some of whom were members of his own family. 
And thence proceeded several famous authors, among whom 
were Kurtz and Held. So Jacobi and Piper started forth 
from Neander. And the system is growing in favor in the 
United States. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 



Murcielagos literarios 
Que haceis a pluma y a pelo, 
Si quereis vivir con todos 
Miraos en este espejo. 

— Iriarte. 



ALL the anxiety I had hitherto felt in regard to the Native 
Races was as author thereof; now I had to undergo the 
trials of publishing. 

Business experience had taught me that the immediate 
recognition, even of a work of merit, depends almost as much 
on the manner of bringing it forth as upon its authorship. So 
easily swayed are those who pass judgment on the works of 
authors; so greatly are they ruled by accidental or incidental 
causes who form for the public their opinion, that actual 
worth is seldom alone the thing considered. 

Experience had told me that a book written, printed, and 
pubHshed at this date on the Pacific coast, no matter how 
meritorious or by whom sent forth, that is to say, if done by 
any one worth the castigating, would surely be condemned 
by some and praised coldly and critically by others. There 
are innumerable local prejudices abroad which prevent us from 
recognizing to the fullest extent the merits of our neighbor. 
Least of all would a work of mine be judged solely upon its 
merits. Trade engenders competition, and competition creates 
enemies. There were hundreds in Cahfornia who had thus 
become my ill-wishers, and to please this class as well as 
themselves there were newspaper writers who would like 
nothing better than, by sneers and innuendoes, to consign the 
fruits of laborious years to oblivion. 

i68 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 169 

I have seen through jealousy, or conscienceless meanness, 
the fruits of a good man's best days thrown to the dogs by 
some flippant remark of an unprincipled critic. Tuthill's 
History of California was a good book, the best by far which 
up to its time had been written on the subject. It was in 
the main truthful and trustworthy. The author was a con- 
scientious worker ; lying was foreign to his nature ; he spent 
his last days on this work, and on his death-bed corrected 
the proofs as they passed from the press. And yet there were 
those among his brother editors in California who did not 
scruple, when the book was placed in their hands for review, 
to color their criticism from some insignificant flaws which 
they pretended to have discovered, and so consign a faithful, 
true history of this coast to perdition, because the author had 
taken a step or two above them. 

To local fa^e, or a literary reputation restricted to Cali- 
fornia, I did not attach much value. Not that I was indif- 
ferent to the opinions of my neighbors, or that I distrusted 
Pacific-coast journalists as a class. I had among them many 
warm friends whose approbation I coveted. But at this 
juncture I did not desire the criticism either of enemies or 
friends, but of strangers ; I was desirous above all that my 
book should be first reviewed on its merits and by disinter- 
ested and unprejudiced men. Adverse criticism at home, 
where the facts were supposed to be better known, might injure 
me abroad, while, if prejudiced in my favor, the critic might 
give an opinion which would be negatived by those of New 
England or of Europe. Besides, I could not but feel, if my 
work was worth anything, if it was a work worth doing, that 
the higher the scholar, or the literary laborer, the higher 
would appear to him its value. 

The reason is obvious. I dealt in facts, gathered from new 
fields and conveniently arranged. These were the raw ma- 
terial for students in the several branches of science, and for 
philosophers in their generalizations. My theories, if I in- 
dulged in any, would be worse than thrown away on them. 
This was their work; they would theorize, and generalize, 



170 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and deduce for themselves ; but they would not despise my 
facts. Hence it was by the verdict of the best men of the 
United States, of England, France, and Germany, the world's 
ripest scholars and deepest thinkers, that my contributions to 
knowledge must stand or fall, and not by the wishes of my 
friends or the desire of my enemies. This is why, I say, a 
home reputation alone never would have satisfied me, never 
would have paid me for my sacrifice of time, money, and 
many of the amenities of life. 

On the 3d of August, 1874, I started east on a literary 
pilgrimage. One hundred author's copies of volume i. had 
been printed at our estabhshment in San Francisco, and the 
plates sent east before my departure. Twenty-five copies of 
the work accompanied the plates ; besides these I carried in 
my trunk printed sheets of the Native Races -^o far as then in 
type, namely the whole of volume i., one hundred and fifty 
pages of volume 11., four hundred pages of volume iii., and 
one hundred pages of volume iv. 

Besides seeking the countenance and sympathy of scholars 
in my enterprise, it was part of my errand to find a publisher. 
As the plates had not arrived when I reached New York I con- 
cluded to leave the matter of publishing for the present, direct 
my course toward Boston, and dive at once in lumi^iis oras. 

It was my intention to ask eastern scholars to examine my 
book and give me an expression of their opinion in writing ; 
but in talking the matter over with Dr. Gray, of Cambridge, 
he advised me to delay such request until the reviewers had 
pronounced their verdict, or at all events until such expression 
of opinion came naturally and voluntarily. This I concluded 
to do ; though at the same time I could not understand what 
good private opinions would do me after public reviewers had 
spoken. Their praise I should not care to supplement with 
feebler praise ; their disapprobation could not be averted after 
it had been printed. 

And so it turned out. What influence my seeing these men 
and presenting them copies of my book had on reviewers, if 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. I^Jl 

any, I have no means of knowing. Directly, I should say it 
had none ; indirectly, as, for example, a word dropped upon 
the subject, or a knowledge of the fact that the author had 
seen and had explained the character of his work to the chief 
scholars of the country, might make the reviewer regard it a 
little more attentively than he otherwise would. On the re- 
ceipt of the fifth volume of the Native Races Dr. Gray wrote 
me : "I am filled more and more with admiration of what 
you have done and are doing ; and all I hear around me, and 
read from the critical judges, adds to the good opinion I had 
formed." 

Doctor Gray gave me letters to Francis Parkman, Charles 
Francis Adams, and others. While at Cambridge we called 
on Mrs. Horace Mann, but she being ill, her sister. Miss 
Peabody, saw us instead. With eloquence of tongue and 
ease and freedom she dissected the most knotty problems of 
the day. 

James Russell Lowell lived in a pleasant, plain house, 
common to the intellectual and refined of that locality. 
Longfellow's residence was the most pretentious I visited^ 
but the plain, home-like dw^ellings, within which was the 
atmosphere of genius or culture, were most attractive to me. 
How cold and soulless are the Stewart's marble palaces of 
New York beside these New England abodes of intellect 
with their chaste though unafiected adornments! 

Lowell listened without saying a word ; listened for three 
or five minutes, I should think, without a nod or movement 
signifying that he heard me. I was quite ready to take 
offence when once the suspicion came that I was regarded 
as a bore. 

" Perhaps I tire you," at length I suggested. 

" Pray go on," said he. 

When I had finished he entered warmly into the merits of 
the case, made several suggestions and discussed points of 
difference. He bound me to him forever by his many acts 
of sympathy then and afterward, for he never seemed to lose 
interest in my labors, and wrote me regarding them. What, 



172 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

for example, could have been more inspiring at that time 
than to receive from him, shortly after my return to San 
Francisco, such words as these : " I have read your first 
volume with so much interest that I am hungry for those to 
come. You have handled a complex, sometimes even tan- 
gled and tautological subject, with so much clearness and 
discrimination as to render it not merely useful to the man 
of science but attractive to the general reader. The con- 
scientious labor in collecting, and the skill shown in the 
convenient arrangement of such a vast body of material, 
deserve the highest praise." 

In Cambridge I called on Arthur Oilman, who went with 
me to the Riverside Press, the establishment of H. O. Hough- 
ton and Company, where I saw Mr. Scudder, who wrote for 
Every Saturday. Mr. Scudder asked permission to announce 
my forthcoming work in his journal, but I requested him to 
say nothing about it just then. I was shown over the build- 
ings, obtained an estimate for the printing and binding of my 
book, and subsequently gave them the work, sending the 
electrotype plates there. One thousand copies only were at 
first printed, then another thousand, and a third; the three 
thousand sets, of five volumes each, being followed by other 
thousands. 

Wednesday, the 26th of August, after calling on several 
journalists in Boston, we took the boat for Nahant to find 
Mr. Longfellow, for he was absent from his home at Cam- 
bridge. Neither was he at Nahant. And so it was in many 
instances, until we began to suspect that most Boston people 
had two houses, a city and a country habitation, and lived in 
neither. From Nahant we went to Lynn, and thence to 
Salem, where we spent the night undisturbed by witches, in 
a charming little antique hotel. 

During the afternoon we visited the rooms of the scientific 
association, and in the evening Wendell Phillips, who gave 
me a welcome that did my heart good. A bright genial face, 
with a keen, kindly eye, and long white hair, a fine figure, 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 1 73 

tall but a little stooped, I found him the embodiment of 
shrewd wisdom and practical philanthropy. There was no 
cant or fiction about him. His smile broke upon his fea- 
tures from a beaming heart, and his words were but the 
natural expression of healthy thoughts. 

He comprehended my desires and necessities on the instant, 
and seating himself at his table he dashed off some eight or 
ten letters in about as many minutes, keeping up all the time 
a rattling conversation, neither tongue nor pen hesitating a 
moment for a word; and it was about me, and my work, and 
California, and whom I should see, that he was talking. Nor 
was this all. Next morning, in Boston, he handed me a 
package of letters addressed to persons who he thought would 
be interested in the work, and whose names had occurred to 
him after I had left. 

Later he writes me: "Your third volume has come. 
Thanks for your remembrance of me. I read each chapter 
with growing interest. What a storehouse you provide for 
every form and department of history in time to come ! I did 
you no justice when you first opened your plan to me. I 
fancied it was something like the French Memoires pour Sefvir. 
But yours is a history, full and complete ; every characteris- 
tic amply illustrated ; every picture preserved ; all the traits 
marshalled with such skill as leaves nothing further to be 
desired. Then such ample disquisitions on kindred topics, 
and so much cross-light thrown on the picture, you give us 
the r-'jces alive again and make our past real. I congratu- 
late you on the emphatic welcome the press has everywhere 
given you." 

How different in mind, manner, heart, and head are the 
men we meet ! 

John G. Whittier was a warm personal friend of Phillips, 
and to him among others the latter sent me. We went to 
Amesbury, where the poet resided, the day after meeting 
Phillips in Boston. A frank, warm-hearted Quaker, living in 
a plain, old-fashioned village house. He gave me letters to 
Longfellow, Emerson, and Doctor Barnard. " I have been 



174 LITRRARY INDUSTRIES. 

SO much interested in his vast and splendid plan of a his- 
tory of the western slope of our continent," he writes to Mr. 
Longfellow, '• that I take pleasure in giving him a note to 
thee. What material for poems will be gathered up in his vol- 
umes ! It seems to me one of the noblest literary enterprises 
of our day." 

" This I will deliver," said I, picking up the one addressed 
to Longfellow, " if I am permitted to retain it ; not otherwise. 
We in California do not see a letter from Whittier to Long- 
fellow every day." He laughed and replied : " My letters 
are getting to be common enough now." I did not see Mr. 
Longfellow, but he wrote me very cordially, praising my 
book and regretting he should have missed my call. 

Informed that Professor Henry Adams, editor of the North 
American Review^ was staying a few miles from Salem, I 
sought him there, but unsuccessfully. Next day I met acci- 
dentally his father, Charles Francis Adams, to whom I ex- 
pressed regrets at not having seen his son. He said he would 
speak to him for me, and remarked that if I could get Fran- 
cis Parkman to review my book in the North Ame7ican it 
would be a great thing for it, but that his health and preoc- 
cupation would probably prevent. He gave me several let- 
ters, and I left full copies of my printed sheets with him. 

I went to Mr. Parkman. I found him at Jamaica Plains, 
where he resided during summer, deep in literary work. 
After all, the worker is the man to take work to, and not the 
man of leisure. Mr. Parkman was a tall, spare man, with^a 
smiling face and winning manner. I noticed that all great 
men in the vicinity of Boston were tall and thin, and wore 
smiling faces, and indications of innate gentleness of char- 
acter. 

" This shows wonderful research, and I think your arrange- 
ment is good, but I should have to review it upon its merits," 
said Mr. Parkman. 

" As a matter of course," I replied. 

" I do not know that I am competent to do the subject 
justice," he now remarked. 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 1 75 

" I will trust you for that,'' said I. 

And so the matter was left ; and in due time several splen- 
did reviews appeared in the North American as the different 
volumes were published. 

From Doctor Holmes I received many letters, which 
brought with them a world of refreshing encouragement. So 
genial and hearty were his expressions of praise that the 
manner of bestowal doubled its value to me. Few can ap- 
preciate the worth to an author of encouraging words at such 
a time and from such a source. " The more I read in your 
crowded pages the more I find to instruct and entertain me," 
he writes. " I assure you that Robhison Crusoe never had a 
more interested reader among the boys than I have been in 
following you through your heroic labor." 

And later he writes : " I have never thanked you for the 
third volume of your monumental work. This volume can 
hardly be read like the others ; it must be studied. The two 
first were as captivating as romances, but this is as absorb- 
ing as a philosophical treatise dealing with the great human 
problems, for the reason that it shows how human instincts 
repeat themselves in spiritual experience as in common life. 
Your labor is, I believe, fully appreciated by the best judges ; 
and you have done, and are doing, a work for which posterity 
will thank you when thousands of volumes that parade them- 
selves as the popular works of the day are lost to human 
memory." 

I very much regretted not seeing Mr. Hale, though I was 
gratified to receive a letter toward Christmas in which he 
wrote: "At this time the subject has to me more interest 
than any other literary subject, I have for many years 
intended to devote my leisure to an historical work to be 
entitled The Pacific Ocean and Its Shores, But I shall never 
write it unless I have first the opportunity of long and care- 
ful study among your invaluable collection." The library 
was placed at Mr. Hale's free disposal, as it was always open 
to every one, but the leisure hours of one man, though it 
should be for several Hfetimes, I fear would not make much 



176 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

showing beside the steady labors of ten to twenty men for 
years. One Saturday we went to Martha's Vineyard, where 
President Grant was enjoying the intellectual feasts spread 
before him by the encamped Methodists. 

I had seen all the chief literary editors of Boston, and was 
well enough satisfied with the results. I knew by this time 
that my book would receive some good reviews in that 
quarter. 

In New York, a few days later, I met George Bancroft — 
to whom, by the way, I am in no way related — who gave 
me a letter to Doctor Draper, and was kind enough afterward 
to write : 

" To me you render an inestimable benefit ; for you bring 
within reach the information which is scattered in thousands 
of volumes. I am glad to see your work welcomed in Europe 
as well as in your own country. In the universality of your 
researches you occupy a field of the deepest interest to the 
world, and without a rival. Press on, my dear sir, in your 
great enterprise, and bring it to a close in the meridian of life, 
so that you may enjoy your well-earned honors during what 
I hope may be a long series of later years." 

Doctor Draper was a man well worth the seeing; from first 
to last he proved one of my warmest and most sympathizing 
friends. After my return to San Francisco he wrote me : "I 
have received your long expected first volume of the Native 
Races of the Pacific States, and am full of admiration of the 
resolute manner in which you have addressed yourself to that 
most laborious task. Many a time I have thought if I were 
thirty years younger I would dedicate myself to an explora- 
tion of the political and psychological ideas of the aborigines 
of this continent; bat you are doing not only this, but a great 
deal more. Your work has taught me a great many things. 
It needs no praise from me. It will be consulted and read 
centuries after you are gone." 

On Friday, the nth of September, I had an interview with 
Charles Nordhofif, during which he agreed to review my work, 
and requested me to appoint some day to spend with him at 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 177 

Alpine, on the Hudson, when we could talk the matter over. 
I named the following Thursday. The day was rainy, but 
within his hospitable doors it passed deHghtfully. I had 
lately seen George Ripley of the Tribune^ whom Wendell 
Phillips pronounced the first critic in America, Mr. Godkin 
of the Nation, and several others, who had given me encour- 
aging words, so that I felt prepared to enjoy the day, and 
did most heartily enjoy it. 

The Tuesday before I had completed arrangements with 
D. Appleton and Company of New York to act as my pub- 
lishers, upon terms satisfactory enough. I was to furnish 
them the work printed and bound at my own cost, and they 
were to account for the same at one half the retail prices. 
The contract was for five years. 

But since I should require some copies in San Francisco, 
and some in London, Paris, and Leipsic, I had concluded to 
do my own printing, and arrange with certain publishers to 
act for me. Mr. James C. Derby, brother of the late George 
H. Derby, to whom I was indebted for my initiation into the 
book business, was then manager of Appleton's subscription 
department, and under his direction my book fell. Very 
little work was put upon it, for the subscription department 
was crowded with books in which the house had deeper 
pecuniary interest than in mine ; yet I was satisfied with the 
sales and with the general management of the business. 

One of the first things to be done on my return to New 
York from Boston was to examine the collection of books Mr. 
Bliss had made while in Mexico and select such as I wanted. 
This was the agreement : I was to take every book which 
my collection lacked, and should I select from his collection 
copies of some books which were in mine, such duplicates 
were to be returned to him. In a private house near Astor 
place, BHss had taken rooms, and there he had his books 
brought and the cases opened. We looked at them all sys- 
tematically, and such as I was not sure of possessing were 
laid aside. The result was an addition to the library of 
some four or five hundred volumes, sent to San Francisco in 



178 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

six cases. To make sure of these books I looked after them 
myself; I would not intrust them to the care of any one 
until they were safely delivered to the railway company, 
with the shipping receipt in my pocket. 

The 30th of September saw me in New Haven. President 
Porter and most of the professors had returned. By this time 
the enthusiasm with which I was wont to tell my story dur- 
ing the earlier stages of my pilgrimage had somewhat waned. 
Nevertheless I must make a few calls. President Porter I 
found exceptionally warm-hearted and sincere. He gave me 
letters of strong commendation to President EHot of Har- 
vard and to Robert C. Winthrop. At the next commence- 
ment he likewise enrolled my name among the alumni of 
Yale as master of arts. 

While wandering among these classic halls I encountered 
Clarence King, who, young as he was, had acquired a repu- 
tation and a position second to no scientist in America. He 
was a man of much genius and rare cultivation. In him 
were united in an eminent degree the knowledge acquired 
from books, and that which comes from contact with men. 
His shrewd common sense was only surpassed by his high 
literary and scientific attainments, and his broad learning was 
so seasoned with unaffected kindness of heart and fresh 
buoyant good-humor as to command the profound admi- 
ration of all who knew him. 

He was my ideal of a scholar. There was an originality 
and dash about him which fascinated me. He could do so 
easily what I could not do at all; he was so young, with 
such an elastic, athletic brain, trained to do his most ambi- 
tious bidding, with such a well-employed past, a proud present, 
and a briUiant future, and withal such a modest bearing and 
genial kind-heartedness, that I could not but envy him. His 
descriptions of scenery are as fine as Ruskin's and far more 
original. 

He had often been in my library, and meeting me now at 
Yale he shook my hand warmly as I thanked him for speak- 
ing so kindly of me to Mr. Higginson at Newport a few days 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 179 

before. After some further conversation I was about to pass 
on when he spoke again: 

" How are you getting along ? " 

"Very well," said I; "better than I had anticipated." 

" Can I do anything for you ?" he asked. 

" No, I thank you," I repHed. Then suddenly recollecting 
myself I exclaimed, " Yes, you can ; review my book in some 
journal." 

" I will do so with pleasure, if I am competent." 

" If you are not," said I, " with all your personal obser- 
vations upon the Pacific slope, I may as well cease looking 
for such men in these parts." 

" Well, I will do my best," he replied. 

I then asked him for what journal he would write a re- 
view. He suggested the North A77iericait or the Atlantic, 

I was greatly disappointed, now that King had agreed to 
write, that his article could not appear in the Atlantic^ where 
were first published his matchless chapters on Mountaineering 
in the Sierra Nevada, That, however, was out of the question, 
as BUss was engaged for that article, and probably had it 
finished by this time. 

Meanwhile Mr. Howells wrote me : "I have not heard a 
word from Mr. Bliss, and it is quite too late to get anything 
about your book into the November number." I immediately 
called on Bliss. He was buried deep in some new subject. 
The money I had given him for his books had made him 
comparatively independent, and when he had revelled in 
reading and tobacco smoke for a time, and had concluded 
his literary debauch, there would be time enough left to apply 
himself to the relief of corporeal necessities. 

" Bliss, how progresses that article for the Atlantic ? " I 
asked him. 

" Finely," he replied. " I have it nearly completed." 

" Show me some of it, will you ? I want to see how it 
reads." 

^' I cannot show it you in its present state," he stammered. 
" Next time you come in you shall see it." 



l8o LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

I was satisfied he had not touched it, and I wrote Howells 
as much, at the same time mentioning my interview with 
King. 

" I wrote you some days ago," Howells replied, under date 
of October 7, 1874, "that Mr. Bliss had not sent me a re- 
view of your book, after promising to do so within ten days 
from the time when he called with you. So if Mr. King will 
review it for me I shall be delighted." At the same time 
Howells telegraphed me, " Ask Clarence King to write re- 
view." Again I sought the retreat of Bliss. I found him 
still oblivious. The fact is, I think my peripatetic friend 
trembled somewhat at the responsibility of his position, and 
he had betaken himself to a vigorous literary whistling to 
keep his courage up. 

When once cornered, he admitted he had not written a 
word of the proposed review. I then told him of Clarence 
King^s offer and Mr. Howells' wishes, and asked him if he 
would be willing to give his review, which I knew he would 
never write, to some other journal. He cheerfully expressed 
his willingness to do so, and congratulated me on having 
secured so able a writer as Mr. King. Therein he acted the 
gentleman. The 7th of December Mr. Howells writes me : 
" I've just read the proof of Clarence King's review of you 
for the Atlantic — twelve pages of unalloyed praise." Con- 
cerning tWs review Mr. King wrote from Colorado the 6th 
of November : " Believe me, I have found great pleasure and 
profit in twice carefully reading the Wild Triles, Of its 
excellence as a piece of critical hterary combination I was^ 
fully persuaded from the first, but only on actual study do I 
reach its true value. Although the driest of the fivt volumes, 
it is simply fascinating to the student who realizes the vital 
value of savage data. Appreciating and enjoying your book 
as much as I do, I yet find a difficulty I have never before 
experienced in attempting to review it. The book itself is a 
gigantic review, and so crammed and crowded with fact that 
the narrow limits of an Atlajiiic review are insufficient to 
even allude to all the classes of fact. To even intimate the 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. l8l 

varied class of material is impossible. I rather fall back to 
the plan of following you from the Arctic coast down to 
Panama, tracing the prominent changes and elements of 
development, giving you of course full credit for the good 
judgment and selection you have shown." 

Professor J. A. Church reviewed the work in an able and 
lengthy article in the Galaxy ; and for the Natmi the book 
was intrusted to Mr. Joseph Anderson of Waterbury, Con- 
necticut, a most able critic. 

I failed to see Mr. Bryant, but was gratified by the receipt 
of a letter in which he expressed himself in the following 
words : " I am amazed at the extent and the minuteness of 
your researches into the history and customs of the aboriginal 
tribes of western North America. Your work will remain to 
coming ages a treasure-house of information on that subject." 
The Californian journals printed many of the eastern and Eu- 
ropean letters sent me, and Mr. Bryant's commanded their 
special admiration, on account of its chirography, which was 
beautifully clear and firm for a poet, and he of eighty years. 

The 2d of October I ran down to Washington to see Mr. 
Spofford, hbrarian of Congress, and John G. Ames, librarian 
and superintendent of public documents. I had been pre- 
sented with many of the government publications for my 
library for the last ten years and had bought many more. 
What I wanted now was to have all the congressional docu- 
ments and government publications sent me as they were 
printed. Mr. Ames informed me that he could send certain 
books from his department. Then, if I could get some sena- 
tor to put my name on his list, I should receive every other 
public document printed, twelve copies of which were given 
each senator for distribution. This Mr. Sargent kindly con- 
sented to do for me, and to him I am indebted for constant 
favors during his term in Washington. 

Calling at the library of Congress, I was informed by Mr. 
Spofford that for some time past he had intended to ask my 
permission to review the Native Races for the New York 
Herald in an article some four columns in length. I assured 



l82 ' LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

him that for so distinguished honor I should ever hold 
myself his debtor. I then looked through a room crammed 
with dupUcates, to ascertain if there were any books among 
them touching my subject which I had not in my library. 
I found nothing. The regulations of the congressional 
library required two copies of every book published in the 
United States to be deposited for copyright, and these two 
copies must always be kept. Any surplus above the two 
copies were called duplicates, and might be exchanged for 
other books. 

Early in the writing of the Native Races I had felt the 
need of access to certain important works existing only in 
manuscript. These were the Historia Apologetica and Historia 
General of Las Casas, not then printed, the Historia Antigua 
de Nueva Espaha of Father Duran, and others. These 
manuscripts were nowhere for sale ; but few copies were in 
existence, and besides those in the library of Congress I knew 
of none in the United States. I saw no other way than to 
have such works as seemed necessary to me copied in whole 
or in part, and this I accomplished by the aid of copyists 
through the courtesy of Mr. SpofFord. The labor was tedious 
and expensive, but I could not go forward with my writing 
and feel that fresh material existed which I had the money 
to procure. 

Several months previous to my journey to Washington Mr. 
H. R. Coleman, who had long been in the employ of our 
firm, and who in the spring of 1874, while on a visit to the 
east, had kindly consented to attend to some business for me, 
had been at the capital with letters of introduction to senators 
and others, and had secured me many advantages. 

From Philadelphia, under date of the 24th of April, Mr. 
Coleman made a full report. His mission was to examine 
the works in the congressional library touching the Pacific 
coast and ascertain what material was there that was not in 
my collection. Then he must set men at work extracting 
certain matter which was described to him, and finally secure 
all the public documents possible for the library. I need 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 183 

only say that all this was accomplished by him to my entire 
satisfaction. Senator Sargent rendered Mr. Coleman most 
valuable assistance, helping him to several hundred volumes 
of books. The difficulty in collecting government documents 
lies not in obtaining current publications but in gathering 
the old volumes, since few of the many departments retain 
in their offices back volumes. My agents and I have visited 
Washington many times on these missions. 

Before leaving San Francisco I had placed the manage- 
ment of the Native Races in London in the hands of Mr. 
Ellis Read, who represented in San Francisco certain Scotch 
and English firms. Mr. Read's London agent was Mr. John 
Brown of Woodford, Essex, an intelligent and wealthy gen- 
tleman, who from the first took a warm interest in the work. 
After consultation with a Hterary friend the pubHcation of the 
book was ofiered to Messrs. Longmans and Company of 
Paternoster Row, and accepted on their usual terms : namely, 
ten per cent, commissions on trade sale price, I to furnish 
them the printed copies unbound, with twenty-five copies for 
editors. A cable despatch from Mr. Brown to Mr. Read in 
San Francisco was forwarded to me at New York, and con- 
veyed the welcome intelligence — welcome because publishers 
so unexceptionable had undertaken the publication of my 
book on terms so favorable. 

Longmans advised Brown to spend thirty pounds in adver- 
tising, and if the book was well received by the press to add 
twenty to it, and suggested that fifty pounds should be de- 
posited with him for that purpose. Expenses in London were 
coming on apace ; so that almost simultaneously with the news 
that the Messrs. Longmans were my publishers, appeared a 
request from Mr. Brown for one hundred pounds. I was in 
New York at the time, and not in the best of spirits, and since 
I must bear all the expense of publication, and furnish the 
publishers the book already printed, the further demand of 
five hundred dollars for expenses, which one would think the 
book should pay if it were worth the publication, appeared to 
me somewhat unreasonable. 



184 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Nevertheless, I sent the money. I was resolved that noth- 
ing within my power to remove should stand in the way of a 
success. Again and again have I plunged recklessly forward 
in my undertakings regardless of consequences, performing 
work which never would be known or appreciated, and but 
for the habit of thoroughness which had by this time become 
a part of my nature, might as well never have been done, 
spending time and paying out money with a dogged deter- 
mination to continue spending as long as time or money 
lasted, whether I could see the end or not. After all, the 
.business in London was well and economically managed. It 
would have cost me five times as much had I gone there and 
attended to it myself, and then it would have been no better 
done. I was specially desirous my work should be brought 
to the attention of English scholars and reviewers. I ex- 
plained to Mr. Brown what I had done and was doing in 
America, and suggested he should adopt some such course 
there. And I must say he entered upon the task with en- 
thusiasm and performed it well. 

Mr. Brown thought the London edition should be dedi- 
cated to some Englishman prominent in science or letters. 
I had no objections, though it was a point which never 
would have occurred to me. But it has always been my 
custom to yield to every inteUigent suggestion, prompted 
by the enthusiasm of an agent or assistant, provided his 
way of doing a thing was in my opinion no worse than 
my way. 

Mr. Brown suggested the name of Sir John Lubbock, and 
sent me a printed page : " I dedicate this work to Sir John 
Lubbock, Bart., M. P., F. R. S., as a tribute of my high 
esteem." In this I acquiesced, and so the dedication was 
made, and gracefully acknowledged by Sir John. To Mr. 
Brown I had sent from San Francisco copies of volume i., 
with letters enclosed, to about a dozen prominent men in 
England, among them Herbert Spencer, Sir Arthur Helps, 
E. B. Tylor, R. G. Latham, Tyndall, Huxley, Max Miiller, 
Lecky, Carlyle, and Murchison. The acknowledgments 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 185 

made by all these gentlemen, received of course after my 
return to San Francisco, were hearty and free. 

Mr. Herbert Spencer writes me : " In less than a year I 
hope to send you the first volume of the Prmciples of Soci- 
ology^ in which you will see that I have made frequent and 
important uses of your book ; " and indeed nothing could be 
more flattering than the references therein made to the Native 
Races, *' During my summer trip in Europe,'^ says Mr. Gil- 
man in a letter from Baltimore, ^' I have frequently heard 
your great work spoken of, but nowhere with more commen- 
dation than I heard from Herbert Spencer. I am sure you 
must be more than paid for your labor by the wide-spread 
satisfaction it has given." 

Doctor Latham, the eminent ethnologist and linguist, 
writes : " The first thing I did after reading it with pleasure 
and profit — for I can't say how highly I value it — w^as to 
indite a review of it for the Exajniner,^^ I was greatly 
pleased with Mr. W. E. H. Lecky's letters, regarding him, 
as I did, as one of the purest writers of Enghsh living. " I 
rejoice to see the book advancing so rapidly to its comple- 
tion," he says, " for I had much feared that, like Buckle's 
history, it was projected on a scale too gigantic for any single 
individual to accomplish. It will be a noble monument of 
American energy, as well as of American genius." 

I well remember with what trepidation I had thought of 
addressing these great men before I began to pubhsh. I 
wondered if they would even answer my letters ; then I took 
heart and said, I know these facts of mine are valuable to 
men of science, and in the form I present it this material, 
well winnowed as it has been, is in a shape far more accessi- 
ble than it could have been before. 

Of the newspapers and magazines containing the best 
reviews and descriptions of the library, Mr. Brown purchased 
from fifty to five hundred copies, and distributed them among 
the libraries, journahsts, and literary men of the world. Not 
having a proper Hst of selected newspapers and of the 
librarians in Europe and America, I employed the mercantile 



1 86 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and statistical agency association of New York to prepare 
me such a list, writing them in two blank-books. There 
were eight hundred and twenty European, Asiatic, and 
colonial libraries written in one book, and the European and 
American newspapers and United States libraries in the 
other. 

It was through Mr. Edward Jackson, correspondent in 
San Francisco of the London Times^ that the Native Races 
was first brought to the notice of that journal. Mr. Jackson 
could not assure me positively that the review would appear. 
Mr. Walter, the editor, would not enhghten Mr. Jackson on 
the subject. I wished to purchase four hundred copies of 
the issue containing the notice of the Native Races ^ provided 
there should be such an issue. And in this way I was obhged 
to give my order to Mr. Brown. 

From London the 3d of April, 1875, Mr. Brown writes: 
" At last the Times has spoken, and I have succeeded in se- 
curing four hundred copies of the paper by dint of close 
watching. When I saw the publishers some time ago, with 
the usual independence of the Times they would not take an 
order for the paper, or even the money for four hundred cop- 
ies to be struck off for me when a review did appear, and all 
I could get was this, — that on the day a review appeared, 
should a review appear at all, if I sent down to the office 
before 1 1 a. m. they would strike off what I wanted. So I 
kept a person watching — as I was sometimes late in going to 
town — with money for the review, and he luckily saw it in 
the morning, rushed down to the office, and, he tells me, in 
less than a quarter of an hour the extra four hundred copies 
were struck off and made over to him. The copies are now 
being posted according to the addresses you sent me." 

In October, 1874, one of the editors of the Kolnische Zei- 
iung was in San Francisco and visited the library frequently. 
He wrote for his paper a description of the library and the 
Native Races^ besides giving me a list of the German mag- 
azines and reviews to which the book should be sent, and 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 187 

much Other valuable information. Dr. Karl Andree of the 
Globus^ Dresden, spoke very kindly of the work, and inserted 
several articles concerning it in that most valuable and influ- 
ential journal. 

In September, 1875, the eminent English scholar, W. Boyd 
Dawkins, called at the library, giving me great pleasure in 
his visit, and from him, a few months later, I received a letter 
from which the following is an extract : " Your wonderful 
book on the native races of the Pacific States,'' he writes 
from Owens College, Manchester, " has been handed to me 
for review in the Edmhirgh, and before I review it I should 
be very much obliged if you could give me information as to 
the following details : You will perhaps have forgotten the 
wandering Englishman who called on you at the end of last 
September, and who had just a hurried glance at your library. 
Then I had no time to carry away anything but a mere 
general impression, which has haunted me ever since. And 
strangely enough your books awaited my return home. I 
want details as to your mode of indexing. How many clerks 
do you employ on the work, and what sort of index cards ? 
You shewed all this to me, but I did not take down any fig- 
ures. Your system seems to me wholly new." 

"Pray accept my heartiest thanks," writes Edward B. 
Tylor, the 25th of February, 1875, " for your gift of the first 
volume of your great work. I need not trouble you with 
compliments, for there is no doubt that you will find in a few 
months' time that the book has received more substantial 
testimony to its value in the high appreciation of all European 
ethnologists. I am writing a slight notice for the Academy, 
particularly to express a hope that your succeeding volumes 
may throw light on the half-forgotten problem of Mexican 
civilization, which has made hardly any progress since Hum- 
boldt's time. Surely the Old and New Worlds ought to join 
in working out the question whether they had been in con- 
tact, in this district, before Columbus's time; and I really 
believe that you may, at this moment, have the materials in 
your hands to bring the problem on to a new stage. May I 



1 88 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

conclude by asking you, as an ethnologist, not to adhere too 
closely to your intention of not theorizing, while there are 
subjects on which you evidently have the means of forming 
a theory more exactly and plentifully in your hands than any 
other anthropologist." 

Before making arrangements with Messrs. Longmans I 
had said nothing about a publisher for the Native Races in 
France and Germany. I now requested Mr. Brown to ask 
those gentlemen if they had any objections to a French or 
German edition, and hearing that they had not, I made pro- 
posals to Maisonneuve et C'^, Paris, and F. A. Brockhaus, 
to act for me, which were accepted, and copies of the volumes 
Vv^ere sent them. All the European publishers were anxious 
to have their copies in advance, so as to publish simultane- 
ously; particularly were they desirous of bringing out the 
book at least on the very day it was issued in New York. 

On accepting the publication of the Native Races for 
France, Messrs. Maisonneuve et C'^ promised to announce 
the work with great care in the bibliographical journals of 
France and elsev/here, deliver copies to the principal reviews, 
and use every exertion in their power to extend its influence. 
Lucien Adam of the Congres Liternational des Americanistes 
reviewed the volumes in the Revue Litterai7^e et Politique^ and 
kindly caused to be inserted in the Revue Britanniqiie of M. 
Picot a translation of Mr. Parkman's review in the North 
American, An able article of twenty-five pages from the pen 
of H. Blerzy appeared in the Revue des Deux AfoJtdes of the 
15th of May, 1876. Extended reviews likewise appeared in 
Le Temps, La Repiiblique Frangaise, and other French jour- 
nals. Mr. Brockhaus, the German publisher, took an unusual 
interest in the book, pronouncing it from the first a work of 
no ordinary importance. 

I cannot enter more fully into the detail of reviewers and 
reviews ; suffice it to say that two large quarto scrap-books 
were filled to overflowing with such notices of the Native 
Races as were sent me. Never perhaps was a book so 
generally and so favorably reviewed by the best journals in 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. 189 

Europe and America. Among the reviews of which I was 
most proud were two columns in the London Times^ some 
thirty or forty pages in the Westminster Review ^ two columns 
in the London Standard; lengthy articles in the North A^ner- 
ican Review^ the New York L^Eco d' Italia, Hartford Cotirant, 
Boston Post, Advertiser, and Journal; Springfield Republican, 
New York Tribune, Christian Union, Natio7i,2.nA Post ; British 
Qua7^terly, Edifibicrgh Review, London Nature, Saturday Re- 
view, Spectator, Academy ; Philadelphia North American, At- 
lantic Monthly, Scribnefs Magazine, The Galaxy ; Revue 
Politique, Revue des Deux Monde s, Hongkong Press ; Zeit- 
schrift filr Lander, Mittheilimgender Kais,, etc., Europa und 
das Ausland, Germany ; and La Vo^ del Nuevo Mtindo. I 
might mention a hundred others, but if I did all would not be 
unadulterated praise. Honors fell upon me after publication, 
such as being made honorary member of the Massachusetts 
Historical Society, the American Antiquarian Society, the 
Philadelphia Numismatic Society, and the Buffalo Historical 
Society, for which due thanks were given. Flattering recog- 
nitions came also in form of diplomas and complimentary 
certificates. 

It was a subject in which all were interested. The study 
of society was the new and most attractive study of the age. 
Everything relating to man, his habitation and his habits, his 
idiosyncrasies and his peculiarities, national, social, and in- 
dividual, all taught a lesson. The sage sat at the feet of the 
savage, and there studied man as he is in a state of nature, 
before he is disguised by the crusts and coverings of society. 
"I could wish that the whole five volumes were already 
available," writes Herbert Spencer to me in February, 1875, 
" and had been so for some time past ; for the tabular state- 
ments and extracts made for the Descriptive Sociology by 
Professor Duncan would have been more complete than at 
present." 

Among my warmest friends was Charles C. Jones, Jr., of 
New York, who reviewed the Native Races in the Independent, 
devoting several articles to each volume. These articles, 



IQO LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

besides being critical reviews, were analytical and descriptive 
essays, dividing and taking up the subject-matter of each 
volume, with a view of popularizing the theme. Mr. Jones 
was fully imbued with the subject, and his articles were very 
interesting. To me he writes : " Your fifth volume, ex dono 
auctoris^ reached me to-day. Fresh from the perusal of its 
charming pages, I offer you my sincere congratulations upon 
the completion of your magmim opus. Great have been the 
pleasure and profit which I have experienced in the perusal 
of the volumes as they have been given to the public." The 
attention of the American Ethnological Society was like- 
wise drawn to the work by Mr. Jones, and the author was 
promptly made an honorary member of that body, with the 
resolution " that the volumes which have already appeared 
indicate patient study, careful discrimination, and exhaustive 
research, and constitute a monument of industry and merit 
alike honorable to their author and creditable to the literary 
efibrt of our country." 

Thus each great scholar found in the work that which was 
new and interesting to him in his special investigations, what- 
ever those might have been, while the attention of the general 
reader was attracted by a variety of topics. In another respect 
the subject was a most happy choice for me. While it attracted 
much more attention than pure history would have done, its 
imperfections of substance, style, and arrangement were much 
more readily overlooked. In precise history critics might have 
looked for more philosophy, more learning, and more dignity 
of style. All I claimed in the premises was faithfully to have 
gathered my facts, to have arranged them in a natural manner, 
and to have expressed them in the clearest language at my 
command. Where so few pretensions were made reviewers 
found little room for censure. 

Thus it was that I began to see m my work a success 
exceeding my highest anticipations. And a first success in 
literature under ordinary circumstances is a most fortunate 
occurrence. To me it was everything. I hardly think that 



THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING. I91 

failure would have driven me from my purpose ; but I needed 
more than dogged persistency to carry me through herculean 
undertakings. I needed confidence in my abilities, assurance, 
sympathy, and above all enthusiasm. I felt with Lowell, that 
" soHd success must be based on solid qualities and the honest 
culture of them.'* 

Then again to accomplish my further purpose, which was 
to do important historical work, it seemed necessary for me 
to know wherein I had erred and wherein I had done well. 
From the first, success fell upon me like refreshing showers, 
invigorating all my subsequent efforts. To the stream of 
knowledge which I had set flowing through divers retorts 
and condensers from my accumulations to the clearly printed 
page, I might now confidently apply all my powers. As the 
king of the Golden River told Gluck, in Ruskin's beautiful 
story, whoever should cast into the stream three drops of 
holy water, for him the waters of the river should turn into 
gold ; but any one failing in the first attempt should not suc- 
ceed in a second; and whoso cast in other than holy water 
should become a black stone. Thus sparkled my work in the 
sunshine of its success, and the author, so far as he was told, 
was not yet a black stone. 



CHAPTER XIIL 

THE TWO GENERALS. 

Ever sinde there has been so great a demand for type, there has been 
much less lead to spare for cannon-balls. — Bulwer, 

CAME to the library the 21st of October, 1873, Enrique 
Cerruti, an Italian, introduced by Philip A. Roach, editor 
and senator, in the terms following : " He speaks Itahan, 
French, Spanish, and Enghsh. He can translate Latin. He 
has been a consul-general and secretary of legation. He is 
well acquainted with Spanish- American affairs and the lead- 
ing men in those states." 

Although neither in his person, nor in his history, did the 
applicant impress me as one specially adapted to literary 
labors, yet I had long since learned that superficial judg- 
ments as to character and ability, particularly when applied 
to wanderers of the Latin race, were apt to prove erroneous. 
Further than this, while not specially attractive, there was 
something winning about him, though I scarcely could tell 
what it was. At all events he secured the place he sought. 

Turning him over to Mr. Oak, for the next three or four 
months I scarcely gave him a thought. He attempted at 
first to extract notes for the Native Races^ devoting his even- 
ings to filing Pacific coast journals, recording the numbers 
received, and placing them in their proper places on the 
shelves. He was not specially successful in abstracting 
material, or in any kind of purely literary work; the news- 
papers he kept in good order, and he could write rapidly 
from dictation either in Spanish or English. 

Quickly catching the drift of things, he saw that first of all 
I desired historical material ; and what next specially drew 

192 



THE TWO GENERALS. 1 93 

my attention to him was his coming to me occasionally with 
something he had secured from an unexpected source. When 
the time came for my book to be noticed by the press he 
used to write frequent and long articles for the Spanish, 
French, and Italian journals in San Francisco, New York, 
Mexico, France, Spain, and Italy. I know of no instance 
where one of his many articles of that kind was declined. He 
had a way of his own of making editors do about as he 
desired in this respect. 

Gradually I became interested in this man, and I saw him 
interest himself more and more in my behalf; and with time 
this interest deepened into regard, until finally I became 
strongly attached to him. This attachment was based on his 
inherent honesty, devotion, and kindness of heart, though on 
the surface was too much of display. 

He was a natural adept in certain subtleties which, had his 
eye been evil, would have made him a first-class villain ; but 
with all his innocent artifices, and the rare skill and delicate 
touch employed in playing upon human weaknesses, he was 
on the whole a well-meaning man. I used to fancy I despised 
flattery, but I confess I enjoyed not more Nemos's caustic 
criticisms than Cerruti's oily unctions, which were laid on so 
gracefully, so tenderly, so liberally, and with the air of one 
to whom it made httle difference whether you believed him 
in earnest or not ; for he well knew that I understood him 
thoroughly, and accepted his compliments at their value. 
Finally, he came to be regarded a privileged character among 
those who knew him, liberty being given him to talk as he 
pleased, his aberrations of speech being charged to his genius 
and not to deliberate intention. 

At first the young men in the library used to laugh at him ; 
but I pointed to the signal results which he was achieving, 
and even should he prove in the end knave or fool, success 
was always a convincing argument. A habit of talking loud 
and grandiloquently, especially among strangers, made Oak 
fearful that Cerruti, while making an ass of himself, would 
13 



194 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

bring us all into ridicule among sensible men. But, said I, 
no sensible man brings us the material that he brings. 

He did what no one else connected with the work could 
do, what but for him never would have been done. He had 
not the scope and comprehensiveness, or the literary culture, 
or the graceful style, or steady application, or erudition to 
achieve for himself. But he had what all of them together 
could not command : power over the minds of men, consum- 
mate skill in touching the springs of human action and in 
making them serve his purpose. 

I do not mean to say that he could not write, and in the 
Latin languages write eloquently ; the many manuscript vol- 
umes of history and narrative which have emanated from his 
pen under the dictation of eminent Califomians and others 
prove the contrary. His chief talent, however, lay in awaken- 
ing an interest in my labors. 

' But how was this necessary ? What need of special efforts 
to make proselytes to a cause so palpably important ; a cause 
neither asking nor accepting subsidy nor pecuniary aid from 
state, society, or individual ; a cause absolutely private and 
independent, and having no other object in view than pure 
investigation and an unbiassed recording of the truth ? Surely, 
one would think, such an enterprise would not require an 
effort to make men believe in it. 

Nevertheless it did. There were mercenary minds, who 
could see nothing but money in it, who having documents 
or knowledge of historical events would not part with their 
information but for a price. " Ah ! " said they, " this man 
knows what he is about. He is not fool enough to spend 
time and money without prospective return. He is a book 
man, and all this is but a dodge to make at once money and 
reputation. No man in this country does something for 
nothing. No man pours out his money and works like a 
slave except in the expectation that it will come back to him 
with interest. He may say he is not working for money, but 
we do not believe it." Others, although their judgment told 
them that by no possibility could the outlay be remunerative. 



THE TWO GENERALS. 



^95 



and that my experience in book-publishing was such that I 
could not but know it, yet thought, in view of the interest I 
took in the subject, and the money I was spending, in every 
direction, in the accumulation of material, that I might per- 
haps be induced to pay them for their information rather 
than do without it. No man of common-sense or of common 
patriotism thought or talked thus ; but I had to do with indi- 
viduals possessed of neither sense nor patriotism. 

Another class, a large and highly respectable one, was 
composed of men who for a quarter of a century had been 
importuned time and again by multitudes of petty scribblers, 
newspaper interviewers, and quasi historians, for items of 
their early experience, until they tired of it. So that when a 
new applicant for information appeared they were naturally 
and justly suspicious; but when they came to know the 
character of the work proposed, and were satisfied that it 
would be fairly and thoroughly done, they were ready with 
all their powers and possessions to assist the undertaking. 

In some instances, however, it required diplomacy of a no 
mean order to convince men that there was no hidden or 
ulterior object in thus gathering and recording their own 
deeds and the deeds of their ancestors. The Hispano-Cali- 
fornians particularly, many of them, had been so abused, so 
swindled, so robbed by their pretended friends, by unprinci- 
pled Yankee lawyers and scheming adventurers, that they did 
not know whom to trust, and were suspicious of everybody. 
Often had letters and other papers been taken from their pos- 
session and used against them in court to prove the title to 
their lands defective, or for other detrimental purpose. Then 
there were individual and local jealousies to be combated. 
One feared undue censure of himself and undue praise of his 
enemy; one family feared that too much prominence would 
be given another family. Then there were rival authors, 
who had collected little batches of material with a view 
to writing the history of Cahfornia themselves. All these 
had to be won over and be made to see the great advan- 
tage to the present and to future generations of having all 



196 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

these scattered chapters of history brought into one grand 
whole. 

To accompHsh something of this was the work of General 
Cerruti. Chameleon-like he would shift his opinions accord- 
ing to the company, and adapt his complex nature to the 
colors of time and place ; with the serious he could be grave, 
with the young merry, and with the profligate free. With 
equal grace he could stimulate virtue or wink at vice. Hence, 
like Catiline planning his conspiracy, he made himself a 
favorite equally with the best men and the basest. 

Another general : though likewise of the Latin race, yet 
broader in intellect, of deeper endowment, and gentler sagacity. 
Among the Hispano-Californians, Mariano de Guadalupe 
Vallejo deservedly stands first. Bom at Monterey the 7th of 
July, 1808, of prominent Castilian parentage, twenty-one 
years were spent in his religious, civil, and military training ; 
after which he took his position at San Francisco as co^nan- 
da?tte of the presidio, collector, and alcalde. In 1835 he 
estabUshed the first ayipitamiento, or town council, at Yerba 
Buena cove, where was begun the m.etropolis of San Fran- 
cisco ; the same year he colonized Sonoma, situated at the 
northern extremity of San Francisco bay, which 'ever after 
was his home. 

While Vallejo was general, his nephew Alvarado was 
governor. In their early education and subsequent studies, 
for citizens of so isolated a country as California then was, 
these two hijos del pais enjoyed unusual advantages. To 
begin with, their minds were far above the average of those 
of any country. Alvarado might have taken his place beside 
eminent statesmen in a world's congress ; and as for literary 
ability, one has but to peruse their histories respectively, to 
be impressed with their mental scope and charm of style. 

As a mark of his intellectual tastes and practical wisdom, 
while yet quite young, Vallejo gathered a library of no mean 
pretensions, consisting not alone of religious books, which 
were the only kind at that time regarded with any degree of 



THE TWO GENERALS. 1 97 

favor by the clergy of California, but liberally interspersed 
with works on general knowledge, history, science, juris- 
prudence, and state-craft. These he kept under lock, ad- 
mitting none to his rich feast save his nephew Alvarado. 

General Vallejo was a man of fine physique, rather above 
medium height, portly but straight as an arrow, with a large 
round head, high forehead, half-closed eyes, thin black hair, 
and side-whiskers. Every motion betrayed the military 
man and the gentleman. His face wore usually a contented 
and often jovial expression, but the frequent short, quick sigh 
told of unsatisfied longings, of vain regrets and lacerated 
ambitions. 

And no wonder, for within the period of his manhood he 
had seen California emerge from a quiet wilderness and 
become the haunt of embroiling civilization. He had seen 
rise from the bleak and shifting sand-dunes of Yerba Buena 
cove a mighty metropolis, the half of which he might have 
owned as easily as to write his name, but of which there was 
not a single foot he could now call his own ; he had seen the 
graceful hills and sweet valleys of his native land pass from 
the gentle rule of brothers and friends into the hands of 
foreigners, under whose harsh domination the sound of his 
native tongue had died away like angels' music. 

Call upon him at Sonoma, at any time from five to ten 
years after his setding there, and for a native Californian you 
find a prince, one who occupies, commands, and lives in 
rustic splendor. His house, a long two-story adobe, with 
wing and out-houses, was probably the finest in California. 
Besides his dusky retainers, who were swept away by diseases 
brought upon them by the white man, he had always on the 
premises at his command a company of soldiers, and servants 
without number. There he had his library, and there he 
wrote a history of California, covering some seven or eight 
hundred manuscript pages ; but, alas ! house, history, books, 
and a large portion of the original documents which he and 
his father and his grandfather had accumulated and pre- 
served, were almost in a moment swept away by fire. This 



198 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

was a great loss ; but few then or subsequently knew any- 
thing of the papers or the history. 

He was stately and stiff in those days, for he was the first 
power in northern California, and to meet an equal he must 
travel many leagues. The United States treated him badly, 
and the state treated him badly, or rather sharpers, citizens 
of the commonwealth, and acting in the name of the state 
and of the United States, first took from him his lands, and 
then failed to keep faith with him in placing the state capital 
at Vallejo, as they had agreed. 

When gold was discovered, three thousand natives answered 
to his call ; in the hall of his dwelling at Sonoma, soon after- 
ward, were stacked jars of the precious metal, as though it 
had been flour or beans. When one had leagues of land and 
tons of gold; when lands were given away, not sold and 
bought, and gold came pouring in for cattle and products 
which had hitherto been regarded of scarcely value enough 
to pay for the computation ; when, for aught any one knew, 
the Sierra was half gold, and gold bought pleasure and adu- 
lation, what was to stay the lavish hand ? For holding the 
generaFs horse the boy was flung a doubloon ; for shaving 
him the barber was given an ounce and no change required ; 
at places of entertainment and amusement, at the festive 
board, the club, the gathering, ounces were as coppers to the 
New Englander, or as quarter-dollars to the later Califomian. 

Singular, indeed, and well-nigh supernatural must have 
been the sensations which crept over the yet active and vig- 
orous old gentleman as he wandered amidst the scenes of his 
younger days. Never saw one generation such change; never 
saw one man such transformation. Among them he walked 
like one returned from centuries of journeying. 

" I love to go to Monterey," he used to say to me, " for 
there I may yet find a little of the dear and almost obliter- 
ated past. There is yet the ocean that smiles to mxe as I 
approach, and venerable bearded oaks, to which I raise my 
hat as I pass under them ; and there are streets still familiar, 



THE TWO GENERALS. 1 99 

and houses not yet torn down, and streams and landscapes 
which I may yet recognize as part of my former belongings. 
But after all these are only the unfabricated grave-gear that 
tell me I am not yet dead." 

In his family and among his friends he was an exceedingly 
kind-hearted man. Before the stranger, particularly before 
the importunate Yankee stranger, he drew close round him 
the robes of his dignity. In all the common courtesies of 
life he was punctilious, even for a Spaniard; neither was his 
pohteness affected, but it sprang from true gentleness of 
heart. It was his nature, When in the society of those he 
loved and respected, to prefer them to himself; it was when 
he came in contact with the world that all the lofty pride of 
his Castilian ancestry came to the surface. 

Indeed, the whole current of his nature ran deep ; his life 
was not the dashing torrent, but the still, silent flow of the 
mighty river. 

In his younger days he was a model of chivalry, a true 
Amadis of Gaul; and when age had stiffened his joints some- 
what, he lost none of his gallantry, and was as ready with his 
poetry as with his philosophy. Indeed, he wrote verses with 
no common degree of talent, and there are many parts of his 
history which might better be called poetry than prose. 

His philosophy was of the Pythagorean type ; he was not 
always ready to tell all that he knew, and in determining whom 
to trust he was governed greatly by his physiognomical dis- 
cernment. He liked or disliked a person usually upon sight 
or instinct. He was a close and shrewd observer, and was 
usually correct in his estimates of human character. His 
wisdom, though simple and fantastic, was deep. He respected 
the forms of religion from ancient association and habit rather 
than from strong internal convictions as to their efficacy. 
There was not the slightest asceticism in his piety ; his was 
far too intelligent a mind to lie under the curse of bigotry. 
Without being what might be called a dreamer in philosophic 
matters, he possessed in a happy degree the faculty of prac- 
tical abstraction ; there was to him here in the flesh a sphere 



200 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of thought other than that answering to the demands of the 
body for food and covering. Thither one might sometimes 
escape and find rest from every- day soHcitudes. 

Although brave and bluff as a soldier, stern and uncom- 
promising as a man of the world, I have seen him in his 
softer moods as sensitive and as sentimental as a Madame 
de Stael. He was in every respect a sincere man. To his 
honesty, but not to his discretion, a friend might trust his for- 
tune and his life. He never would betray, but he might 
easily be betrayed. Ever ready to help a friend, he expected 
his friend to help him. 

In common with most of his countrymen, his projects and 
his enthusiasms swayed violently between extremes. He was 
too apt to be carried away by whatever was uppermost in his 
mind. Not that his character lacked ballast, or that he was 
incapable of close calculation or clear discrimination; but 
never having been accustomed to the rigid self-restriction 
which comes from a life of plodding application, he was per- 
haps too much under the influence of that empressemefit which 
lies nearest the affections. 

Yet for this same defect, posterity will praise him ,- for an 
heroic and discriminating zeal which, though impetuous, al- 
ways hurried him forward in the right direction, his children's 
children will rise up and call him blessed. He was the no- 
blest Califomian of them all ! Among all the wealthy, the 
patriotic, and the learned of this land he alone came forward 
and flung himself, his time, his energies, and all that was his, 
into the general fund of experiences accumulating for the 
benefit of those who should come after him. His loyalty 
was pure ; and happy the god in whose conquered city are 
still found worshippers. 

Pacheco might promise; Vallejo performed. While dema- 
gogues were ranting of their devotion to country, offering for 
a liberal compensation to sacrifice themselves at Sacramento 
or at Washington, General Vallejo was spending his time and 
money scouring California for the rescuing of valuable knowl- 
edge from obHteration, and in arranging it, when found, in 



THE TWO GENERALS. 20I 

form available to the world. Let Spanish-speaking Califor- 
nians honor him, for he was their chief in chivalrous devotion 
to a noble cause ! Let English-speaking Califomians honor 
him, for without the means of some he did more than any- 
other for the lasting benefit of the country ! Let all the 
world honor him, for he is thrice worthy the praise of all ! 



CHAPTER XIV. 

ITALIAN STRATEGY. 

A few drops of oil will set the political machine at work, when a ton 
of vinegar would only corrode the wheels and canker the movements. 

— Collon, 

GENERAL Vallejo was wary ; General Cerruti was wily. 
Rumor had filled all the drawers and chests at La- 
chryma Montis, the residence of General Vallejo at Sonoma, 
with priceless documents relating to the history of CaUfornia, 
some saved from the fire which destroyed his dwelling, some 
gathered since, and had endowed the owner with singular 
knowledge in deciphering them and in explaining early 
affairs. Hence, when some petty scribbler wished to talk 
largely about things of which he knew nothing, he would 
visit Sonoma, would bow himself into the parlor at Lachryma 
Montis, or besiege the general in his study, and beg for some 
particular purpose a little information concerning the untold 
past. The general declared that rumor was a fool, and 
directed applicants to the many historical and biographical 
sketches already in print. 

I had addressed to Sonoma communications of this charac- 
ter several times myself, and while I always received a polite 
reply there was no tangible result. As Cerruti displayed 
more and more ability in gathering material, and as I was 
satisfied that General Vallejo could disclose more than he 
professed himself able to, I directed the Italian to open cor- 
respondence with him, with instructions to use his own judg- 
ment in storming the walls of indifference and prejudice at 
Lachryma Montis. 

License being thus allowed him, Cerruti opened the cam- 
paign by addressing a letter to General Vallejo couched in 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 203 

terms of true Spanish- American courtesy, which consists of 
boasting and flattery in equal parts. 

To the searcher after Cahfornian truth Vallejo was Cahfor- 
nia, to the student of Cahfornia's history Vallejo was Cali- 
fornia ; so Cerruti had affirmed in his letter, and the recipient 
seemed not disposed to resent the assertion. The writer 
loved truth and history ; he loved Cahfornia, and longed to 
know more of her ; most of all he loved Vallejo, who was 
California in the flesh. Not a word said Cerruti about Ban- 
croft, his hbrary, or his work, preferring to appear before him 
whom he must conquer as a late consul-general and an exiled 
soldier, rather than as the subordinate of another. 

The result was as he had desired. Courteously General 
Vallejo replied, at the same time intimating that if Cerruti 
desired historical data he had better call and get it. " Sin 
embargo," he says, "por casualidad 6 por accidente, ese 
nombre esta relacionado e identificado de tal manera con la 
historia de la Alta California desde su fundacion hasta hoy, 
que aunque insignificante, de veras, Sr. Consul, la omision 
de el en ella sera como la omision de un punto 6 una coma 
en un discurso escrito 6 la acentuacion ortografica de una 
carta epistolar." 

So Cerruti went to Sonoma, went to Lachryma Montis 
almost a stranger, but carrying with him, in tongue and 
temper at least, much that was held in common by the man 
he visited. It was a most difficult undertaking, and I did 
not know another person in California whom I would have 
despatched on this mission with any degree of confidence. 

Introducing himself, he told his tale. In his pocket were 
letters of introduction, but he did not deign to use them ; he 
determined to make his way after his own fashion. Cerruti's 
was not the story to which the general was accustomed to 
turn a deaf ear. Further than this, the Italian had studied 
well the character of him he sought to win, and knew when to 
flatter, and how. Spaniards will swallow much if of Spanish 
flavor and administered in Spanish doses. This Cerruti well 



204 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

understood. He had every advantage. In his role of stran- 
ger visiting the first of Cahfomians, he could play upon the 
general's pride of person, of family; he could arouse his wrath 
or stir up soft sympathy almost at pleasure. 

And yet the Spaniard was not duped by the Italian; he 
was only pleased. All the while General Vallejo knew that 
Cerruti had a definite purpose there, some axe to grind, some 
favor to ask, which had not yet been spoken ; and when finally 
the latter veered closer to his errand and spoke of documents, 
" I presently saw,'* said the general to me afterward, " the 
ghost of Bancroft behind him." Nevertheless, Vallejo listened 
and was pleased. '^ After making deep soundings," writes 
Cerruti in the journal I directed him to keep, and which, under 
the title Ramblings in Califomia, contains much good read-"^ 
ing, " I came to the conclusion that General Vallejo was 
anxious for some person endowed with literary talents to 
engage in the arduous task of giving to the world a true his- 
tory of California. Having come to this conclusion, I frankly 
admitted to him that I had neither the intelligence nor the 
means required for so colossal an enterprise, but assured him 
that Hubert H. Bancroft," etc. After a brief interview Cer- 
ruti retreated with an invitation to dine at Lachryma Montis 
the next day. 

It was a grand opportunity, that dinner party, for a few 
others had been invited, and we may rest assured our gen- 
eral did not fail to improve it. Early during the courses his 
inventive faculties were brought into play, and whenever any- 
thing specially strong arose in his mind he threw up his chin, 
and lifted his voice so that all present might hear it. On 
whatever subject such remark might be, it was sure to be 
received with laughter and applause ; for somewhere inter- 
woven in it was a compliment for some one present, who if 
not specially pleased at the broad flattery could but be 
amused at the manner in which it was presented. How well 
the envoy improved his time is summed in one line of his 
account, where with charming naivete he says : " In such 
pleasant company hunger disappeared as if by enchant- 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 205 

ment, and the food placed on my plate was left almost 
untouched" — in plain English, he talked so much he could 
not eat. 

Next day our expert little general was everywhere, talking 
to everybody, in barber-shops, beer-saloons, and wine-cellars, 
in public and private houses, offices and stores, making friends 
and picking up information relating to his mission. First he 
wrote the reminiscences of some half-dozen pioneers he had 
met and conversed with on the boat, at the hotel, and on the 
street, writings which he did not fail to spread before Gen- 
eral Vallejo, with loud and ludicrous declamation on the 
character of each. Thus he made the magnate of Sonoma 
feel that the visitor was at once to become a man of mark 
in that locality, whom to have as a friend was better for Val- 
lejo than that he should be regarded as opposed to his mis- 
sion. But this was not the cause of the friendship that now 
began to spring up in the breasts of these two men. 

This display of ability on the part of the new-comer could 
not fail to carry with it the respect of those who otherwise 
were sensible enough to see that Cerruti was a most windy 
and erratic talker. But his vein of exaggeration, united as it 
was with energy, ability, enthusiasm, and honesty, amused 
rather than offended, particularly when people recognized 
that deception and harm were not intended. Here indeed 
was one of the secret charms of Cerruti, this and his flattery. 
All Spaniards delight in hyperbole. 

Among Cerruti's earliest acquaintances made at Sonoma 
was Major Salvador Vallejo, a younger brother of the gen- 
eral, and from whom he took a very interesting dictation. 
Major Salvador was bom in Monterey in 1814. He had 
been a great Indian-fighter, and had many interesting events 
to relate of by-gone times. 

Often Cerruti would give great names to the shadows of 
men, and find himself pressed to the wall by the greatness he 
had invoked; often he was obhged to allay by falsehood 
anger aroused by indiscretion. Writing on the 29th of 
November, 1874, he says: "Major Salvador Vallejo has 



206 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

perused the Overland^ and is very much enraged that the 
writer of the article on material for California history should 
have given credit to Castro and Alvarado, who as yet have 
not written a single line, and that nothing was said in refer- 
ence to his dictation, I told him that the writer in the Over- 
land was not connected with the Bancroft library, but he 
refused to believe what I said.'* 

Thus the Italian continued, until a week, ten days, a fort- 
night, passed without very much apparent headway so far as 
the main object of his mission was concerned. The minor 
dictations were all valuable ; but anything short of success 
in the one chief object which had called him there was not 
success. Every day Cerruti danced attendance at Lachryma 
Montis, spending several hours there, sometimes dining, some- 
times chatting through the evening. He created a favorable 
impression in the mind of Mrs. Vallejo, made love to the 
young women, and flattered the general to his heart's content. 

This was all very pleasant to the occupants of a country 
residence. It was not every day there came to Lachryma 
Montis such a fascinating fellow as Cerruti, one who paid his 
board at the Sonoma hotel, and his bill at the livery stable ; 
and no wonder the Vallejos enjoyed it. Uppermost in the 
faithful Itahan's mind, however, throughout the whole of it 
was his great and primary purpose. But whenever he spoke 
of documents, of the Sonoma treasury of original historical 
material. General Vallejo retired within himself, and remained 
oblivious to the most wily arts of the tempter. The old 
general would talk ; he liked to talk, for when he could em- 
ploy his native tongue he was a brilliant conversationalist 
and after-dinner speaker. And on retiring to his quarters the 
younger general would record whatever he could remember 
of the words that fell from his elder's lips. Sometimes, indeed, 
when they were alone Cerruti would take out his note-book 
and write as his companion spoke. 

But all this was most unsatisfying to Cerruti : and he now 
began more clearly to intimate that the spending of so much 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 207 

time and money in that way would be unsatisfactory to 
Mr. Bancroft. Then he plainly said that he must make a 
better showing or retire from the field. If it was true, as 
General Vallejo had assured him, that he had nothing, and 
could not be prevailed upon to dictate his recollections, that 
was the end of it; he must return to San Francisco and 
so report. 

This threat was not made, however, until the crafty Italian 
had well considered the effect. He saw that Vallejo was 
gradually becoming more and more interested in him and his 
mission. He saw that, although the general was extremely 
reticent regarding what he possessed, and what he would do, 
he was seriously revolving the subject in his mind, and that 
he thought much of it. 

But the old general could be as cunning and crafty as the 
younger one, and it was now the Spaniard's turn to play upon 
the Italian. This he did most skilfully, and in such a manner 
as thoroughly to deceive him and throw us all off the scent. 

While reiterating his assurances that he had nothing, and 
that he could disclose nothing ; that when he wrote his recol- 
lections the first time he had before him the vouchers in the 
form of original letters, proclamations, and other papers, 
which were all swept away by the fire that burned the manu- 
script he had prepared with such care and labor; and that 
since then he had dismissed the subject from his mind ; that, 
indeed, it had become distasteful to him, and should never 
be revived — while these facts were kept constantly before 
Cerruti, as if firmly to impress them upon his mind, General 
Vallejo would uncover, little by little, to his watchful atten- 
dant the vast fund of information at his command. Some 
anecdote, apparently insignificant in itself, would be artfully 
interwoven with perhaps a dozen historical incidents, and in 
this exasperating manner the searcher after historical facts 
would be shown a fertile field which it was forbidden him to 
enter. 

To keep the Italian within call, and that he might not be 
so reduced to despair as to abandon further attempts and 



208 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

return to San Francisco, Vallejo now began also to feed his 
appetite v/ith a few papers which he professed to have found 
scattered about the premises, granting him permission to take 
copies of them, and intimating that perhaps he might find a 
few more when those were returned. There was his office, or 
the parlor, at the scribe's disposal, where he might write un- 
molested. 

With a will Cerruti began his task. When it was finished 
a few more papers were given him. At first General Vallejo 
would on no account permit a single paper to be taken from 
the premises. But working hours at Lachryma Montis must 
necessarily be short, and interruptions frequent. Would not 
General Vallejo kindly repose confidence enough to permit 
him to take the documents to his hotel to copy, upon his 
sacred assurance that not one of them should pass out of his 
hands, but should be returned immediately the copy was 
made? With apparent reluctance the request was finally 
granted. 

This made Cerruti hilarious in his letters to Oak. General 
Vallejo was a great and good man, and was rapidly taking 
him into his friendship, which was indeed every word of it 
true. And now in some unaccountable way the papers to be 
copied rapidly increased; more of them were brought to 
light than had been thought to exist. The hotel was noisy 
and unpleasant, and the copyist finally determined to rent a 
room on the street fronting the plaza, where he might write 
and receive his friends. There he could keep his own wine 
and cigars with which to regale those who told him their 
stories, and the sums which had before been spent at bar- 
rooms treating these always thirsty persons would pay room 
rent. Cerruti was a close financier, but a liberal spender of 
other men's money. It is needless to say that as the result 
of this deeply laid economic scheme the copyist had in his 
office usually two or three worthless idlers drinking and 
smoking in the name of literature and at the expense of his- 
tory, persons whom he found it impossible to get rid of, and 
whom it was not poUtic to offend. 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 209 

Thicker and broader was each succeeding package now 
given the brave consul-general to copy, until he began to 
tire of it. He must have help. What harm would there be, 
after all, if he sent part of each package carefully by express 
to the library to be copied there ? There was no risk. He 
could represent to me that General Vallejo had given per- 
mission, with the understanding that they must be returned 
at once. Besides, it was absolutely necessary that something 
should be done. Sonoma was an extremely dull, uninter- 
esting place, and he did not propose to spend the remainder 
of his days there copying documents. 

The method he employed, which would at once enable 
him to accomplish his object and keep his faith, was some- 
what unique. Major Salvador Vallejo once wishing Cerruti 
to spend a day with him, the latter replied : " I cannot ; I 
must copy these papers ; but if you will assume the responsi- 
bility and send them to San Francisco to be copied I am at 
your service.'^ Salvador at once assented, and ever after all 
breaches of trust were laid upon his shoulders. 

Thus matters continued for two months and more, during 
which time Oak, Fisher, and myself severally made visits to 
Sonoma and were kindly entertained at Lachryma Montis. 
All this time General Vallejo was gaining confidence in my 
messenger and my work. He could but be convinced that 
this literary undertaking was no speculation, or superficial 
clap-trap, but genuine, solid, searching work. Once thor- 
oughly satisfied of this, and the battle was won ; for General 
Vallejo was not the man to leave himself, his family, his 
many prominent and unrecorded deeds, out of a work such 
as this purported to be. 

One day while in a somewhat more than usually confiden- 
tial mood he said to Cerruti : " I cannot but believe Mr. 
Bancroft to be in earnest, and that he means to give the 
world a true history of Cahfomia. I was born in this coun- 
try; I once undertook to write its history, but my poor 
manuscript and my house were burned together. I was 
absent from home at the time. By mere chance my servants 
14 



2IO LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

succeeded in saving several bundles of documents referring 
to the early days of California, but the number was insignifi- 
cant compared with those destroyed. However, I will write 
to San Jose for a trunk filled with papers that I have there, 
and of which you may copy for Mr. Bancroft what you please." 

" But, General," exclaimed Cerruti, overv/helmed by the 
revelation, " I cannot copy them here. Since you have been 
so kind as to repose this confidence in me, permit me to take 
the papers to the library and employ men to copy them; 
otherwise I might work over them for years." 

" Well, be it so," repHed the general; " and while you are 
about it, there are two other chests of documents here which 
I have never disturbed since the fire. Take them also ; copy 
them as quickly as you can, and return them to me. I shall 
be more than repaid if ]\ir. Bancroft's history proves such as 
my country deserves." 

Now it was a fundamental maxim with Cerruti never to be 
satisfied. In collecting material, where I and most men would 
be gratefully content, acquisition only made him the more 
avaricious. As long as there was anything left, so long did 
he not cease to importune. 

*^ Why not multiply this munificence fourfold," he said, 
"by giving Mr. Bancroft these documents out and out, and 
so save him the heavy expense of copying them? That 
would be a deed worthy of General Vallejo. Surely Mr. 
Bancroft's path is beset with difiiculties enough at best. In 
his library your documents will be safely kept ; they will be 
collated, bound, and labelled with your name, and this good 
act shall not only be heralded now, but the record of it shall 
stand forever." 

" No, sir ! " exclaimed the general, emphatically. " At all 
events not now. And I charge you to make no further 
allusion to such a possibility if you value my favor. Think 
you I regard these papers so lightly as to. be wheedled out 
of them in little more than two short months, and by one 
almost a stranger? You have asked many times for my 
recollections ; those I am now prepared to give you." 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 211 

" Good ! " cried Cerruti, who was always ready to take 
what he could get, provided he could not get what he wanted. 
"All ready, General; you may begin your narrative." 

" My friend," returned the general mildly, " you seem to 
be in haste. I should take you for a Yankee rather than for 
an Italian. Do you expect me to write history on horseback ? 
I do not approve of this method. I am willing and ready 
to relate all I can remember, but I wish it clearly understood 
that it must be in my own way, and at my own time. I will 
not be hurried or dictated to. It is my history, and not 
yours, I propose to tell. Pardon me, my friend, for speaking 
thus plainly, but I am particular on this point. If I give my 
story it must be worthy of the cause and worthy of me." 

To Cerruti it was easier to write a dozen pages than to 
think about writing one. In the opinion of Vallejo, such a 
writer deserved to be burned upon a pile of his own works, 
like Cassius Etruscus, who boasted he could write four hun- 
dred pages in one day. 

But this rebuke was not unpalatable, for it lifted the matter 
at once from the category of personal narrative to the higher 
plane of exact history. It was history, and nothing beneath 
it, to be written no less from documentary than from personal 
evidence, and from the documents and experiences of others, 
as well as from his papers and personal observations. 

With June came the two generals to San Francisco. The 
Vallejo documents were all in the library, and round one of 
the long tables were seated eight Mexicans copying them. 
One morning the Spaniard and the Italian entered the li- 
brary. I think this was General Vallejo's first visit to the fifth 
floor. 

It was to him an impressive sight. Passing the copyists, 
who with one accord signified their respect by rising and 
bowing, he was conducted to my room. Nemos, Oak, and 
others who happened to be acquainted with the general, 
then came in; cigars were passed, and the conversation 
became general. The history of California, with the Vallejo 
family as a central figure, was the theme, and it was earnestly 



212 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and honestly discussed. Two hours were then spent by the 
distinguished visitor examining the Hbrary. He was attended 
by one of my assistants, who explained everything, giving in 
detail what we had done, what we were doing, and what we 
proposed to do. 

It was very evident that General Vallejo was impressed 
and pleased. Here was the promise of a work which of all 
others lay nearest his heart, conducted on a plan which if 
carried out would, he was convinced, secure the grandest 
results. It was a work in which he was probably more 
nearly concerned than the author of it. If I was the writer 
of history, he was the embodiment of history. This he 
seemed fully to realize. 

Cerruti saw his opportunity ; let my faithful Italian alone 
for that! He saw Vallejo drinking it all in like an inspira- 
tion; he saw it in his enkindled eye, in his flushed face and 
firm tread. Before the examination of the library was fairly 
finished, placing himself by the side of his now sincere and 
devoted friend he whispered, " Now is your time. General. 
If you are ever going to give those papers — and what better 
can you do with them ? — this is the proper moment. Mr. 
Bancroft suspects nothing. There are the copyists, seated to 
at least a twelvemonth's labor. A word from you will save 
him this large and unnecessary expenditure, secure his grati- 
tude, and the admiration of all present.'* 

" He deserves them ! " was the reply. " Tell him they are 
his." 

I was literally speechless with astonishment and joy when 
Cerruti said to me, " General Vallejo gives you all his papers." 
Besides the priceless intrinsic value of these documents, which 
would forever place my library beyond the power of man to 
equal in original material for California history, the example 
would double the benefits of the gift. 

I knew General Vallejo would not stop there. He was 
slow to be won, but once enlisted, his native enthusiasm 
would carry him to the utmost limit of his ability ; and I was 
right. From that moment I had not only a friend and sup- 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 213 

porter, but a diligent worker. Side by side with Savage and 
Cerruti, for the next two years he alternately wrote history 
and scoured the country for fresh personal and documentary 
information. 

" When I visited San Francisco last week," writes General 
Vallejo to the Sonoma Democrat^ in reply to a complaint that 
the Vallejo archives should have been permitted to become 
the property of a private individual, " I had not the slightest 
intention of parting with my documents ; but my friends hav- 
ing induced me to visit Mr. Bancroft's library, where I was 
shown the greatest attention, and moreover allowed to look 
at thousands of manuscripts, some of them bearing the sig- 
natures of Columbus, Isabel the Catholic, Philip II., and vari- 
ous others pre-eminent among those who figured during the 
fifteenth century, I was exceedingly pleased ; and when Mr. 
Bancroft had the goodness to submit to my inspection seven 
or eight thousand pages written by himself, and all relating 
to California, the history of which until now has remained 
unwritten, I could not but admire the writer who has taken 
upon himself the arduous task of giving to the world a com- 
plete history of the country in which I was bom ; and there- 
fore I believed it my duty to offer to him the documents in 
my possession, with the certainty that their perusal would in 
some wise contribute to the stupendous enterprise of a young 
writer who is employing his means and intelligence for the 
purpose of carrying to a favorable termination the noble task 
of bequeathing to the land of his adoption a history worthy 
of his renown." 

I thanked the general as best I could ; but words poorly 
expressed my gratitude. The copyists were dismissed, all 
but two or three, who were put to work arranging and index- 
ing the documents preparatory to binding. A title-page was 
printed, and when the work was done twenty-seven large 
thick volumes of original material, each approaching the 
dimensions of a quarto dictionary, were added to the library ; 
nor did General Vallejo cease his good work until the twenty- 
seven were made fifty. 



214 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

That night I entertained the general at my house; and 
shortly afterward he brought his family from Lachryma 
Montis and stayed a month with me, a portion of which 
time the general himself, attended by Cerruti, spent at 
Monterey writing and collecting. 

It was in April, 1874, that Cerruti began writing in Spanish 
the Hisioria de California, dictated by M. G. Vallejo. It 
was understood from the first that this history was for my 
sole use, not to be printed unless I should so elect, and that 
my sanction was not probable. It was to be used by me in 
writing my history as other chief authorities were used; the 
facts and incidents therein contained were to be given their 
proper place and importance side by side with other facts 
and incidents. 

The two years of labor upon the Vallejo history were cheer- 
fully borne by the author for the benefit it would confer upon 
his country, and that without even the hope of some time 
seeing it in print. Undoubtedly there was personal and 
family pride connected with it ; yet it was a piece of as pure 
patriotism as it has ever been my lot to encounter. General 
Vallejo never would accept from me compensation for his 
part of the work. I was to furnish an amanuensis in the 
person of Cerruti, and the fruits of their combined labor were 
to be mine unreservedly. As it was, the cost to me amounted 
to a large sum ; but had the author charged me for his time 
and expenses, it would have been twice as much. 

This and other obligations of which I shall have occasion 
to speak hereafter, I can never forget. Posterity cannot 
estimate them too highly. General Vallejo was the only man 
on the coast who could have done this if he w^ould; and 
besides being the most competent, he was by far the most 
willing person with whom I had much to do. 

Yet this obligation did not in the slightest degree bind me 
to his views upon any question. I trust I need not say at 
this late date that I was swayed by no palpable power to one 
side or another in my writings. Knowing how lavish 
Spaniards are of their praises, how absurdly extravagant their 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 215 

inflated panegyrics sound to Anglo-Saxon ears, and how 
coldly calculating English laudations appear to them, I never 
hoped to please Californians ; I never thought it possible to 
satisfy them, never wrote to satisfy them, or, indeed, any one 
class or person. And I used to say to General Vallejo : 
"You being a reasonable man will understand, and will, I 
hope, beheve that I have aimed to do your people justice. 
But they will not as a class think so. I claim to have no 
prejudices as regards the Hispano-Califomians, or if I have 
they are all in their favor. Yet you will agree with me that 
they have their faults, in common with Englishmen, Ameri- 
cans, and all men. None of us are perfect, as none of us 
are wholly bad. Now nothing less than superlative and 
perpetual encomiums would satisfy your countrymen. I 
cannot write to please or win the special applause of race, 
sect, or party; if I did my writings would be worthless. 
Truth alone is all I seek 3 that I v/iil stand or fall by. And 
I believe that you. General, will uphold me in this.'' 

Thus I endeavored to prepare his mind for any unwhole- 
some truths which he might see ; for most assuredly I should 
utter them as they came, no matter who might be the sufferer 
or what the cost. 

For several years, while busiest in the collection of mate- 
rial, a good share of my time was taken up in conciliating 
those whom I had never offended ] that is to say, those ancient 
children, my Hispano-Californian allies, who were constantly 
coming to grief. Some of them were jealous of me, some 
jealous of each other; all by nature seemed ready to raise 
their voices in notes of disputatious woe upon the slightest 
provocation. 

For example : General Vallejo had no sooner given his 
papers to the library than one of the copyists wrote the 
notary Ramon de Zaldo, a friend of Vallejo, a letter, in which 
he called in question the general's motives in thus parting 
with his papers. 

" It was to gain the good-will of Mr. Bancroft that these 
documents were thus given him," he said, " and consequently 



2l6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

we may expect to see the history written in the Vallejo inter- 
est, to the detriment of other CaHfoniians/' 

When General Vallejo stepped into the notary's office next 
morning, Zaldo showed him the letter. Vallejo was very 
angry, and justly so. It was a most malicious blow, aimed 
at the general's most sensitive spot. 

" It is an infamous lie I " the general raved, walking up and 
down the office. " If ever an act of mine was disinterested, 
and done from pure and praiseworthy motives, this was such 
a one. What need have I to court Mr. Bancroft's favors ? 
He was as much my friend before I gave the papers as he 
could be. There was not the slightest intimation of a com- 
pact. Mr. Bancroft is not to be influenced ; nor would I 
influence him if I could. I felt that he deserved this much 
at my hands ; and I only regret that my limited income pre- 
vents me from supplementing the gift with a hundred thou- 
sand dollars to help to carry forward the good work, so that 
the burden of it should not fall wholly on one man." 

Of Cerruti's Ramblings there are two hundred and thirteen 
pages. Portions of the manuscript are exceedingly amusing, 
particularly to one acquainted with the writer. I will let him 
speak of a trip to San Jose, made by him in June, I think, 
1874. 

" A few days after my arrival in San Francisco I visited 
San Jose, well supplied with letters of introduction from Gen- 
eral Vallejo. My first steps on reaching that city were directed 
toward the Bernal farm, where dwelt an aged gentleman who 
went by the name of Francisco Peralta, but whose real name 
I could not ascertain. I gave him a letter of introduction 
from General Vallejo. He read it three or four times; then 
he went to a drawer and from among some rags pulled out a 
splendid English translation of the voyages of Father Font. 
He took ofl* the dust from the manuscript, then handed it to 
me. I looked at it for a few moments for the purpose of 
making sure that I held the right document. Then I unbut- 
toned my overcoat and placed it in my bosom. 

" ^ What are you doing, my friend? ' shouted Peralta. 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 217 

" I replied : ' Estoy poniendo el documento en lugar de 
seguridad, tengo que caminar esta noche y recelo que el 
sereno lo moje/ 

" He looked astonished, and then said : ' I will not allow 
you to take it away. General Vallejo requested that I should 
permit you to copy it. That I am willing to do ; but as to 
giving you my J^(?7if, that is out of the question.' 

" As I had brought along with me a bottle of the best 
brandy, I called for a corkscrew and a couple of glasses, and 
having lighted a segar I presented my companion with a real 
Habana. Having accepted it, we were soon engaged in 
conversation." 

The writer then gives a sketch of the settlement and early 
history of San Jose as narrated by his aged companion. 
After which he continues: 

" I then tried to induce Mr. Peralta to give me a few details 
about himself, but to no purpose. I kept on filling his glass 
till the bottle was emptied, but I gained nothing by the trick, 
because every time he tasted he drank the health of General 
Vallejo, and of course I could not conveniently refuse to 
keep him company. The clock of the farm-house having 
struck two, I bid adieu to Mr. Peralta, unfastened my horse 
that had remained tied to a post during five hours, and then 
returned to San Jose. Of course I brought along with me 
the venerable Father Font I '* 

When I learned how far the ItaHan had been carried by 
his zeal in my behalf, I returned Peralta the book with ample 
apologies. 

Cerruti now proceeded to the college at Santa Clara, and 
thus describes the visit : 

" With reverential awe, cast-down eyes, and studied de- 
meanor of meekness, I entered the edifice of learning. As 
soon as the gate closed behind me I took ofi" my hat and 
addressed the porter, whom I requested to send my card to 
the reverend father director. Having said that much I 
entered the parlor, opened a prayer-book that happened to 
be at hand, and began to read the Miserere mei Dens se- 



2l8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

cimdum magnam misericordiam tuam, which lines recalled to 
my mind many gloomy thoughts; for the last time I had 
sung these solemn sentences was at the funeral of President 
Melgarejo, the man who had been to me a second father. 
But I was not allowed much time for reflection, because 
presently a tall priest of pleasing countenance entered the 
parlor, beckoned me to a chair, and in a voice that reflected 
kindness and good-will begged of me to explain the object 
which had procured for him the pleasure of my visit. I then 
announced myself as the representative of the great historian, 
H. Bancroft" — I may as well here state that whenever Cer- 
ruti mentioned my name in the presence of strangers there 
were no adjectives in any language too lofty to employ — 
" notified him that my object in visiting the college was for 
the purpose of having a fair view of the library and of exam- 
ining the manuscripts it contained. I likewise assured him 
that though the history was not written by a member of the 
church of Rome, yet in it nothing derogatory to the Catholic 
faith would be found. I added, however, that the bigoted 
priests who had destroyed the Aztec paintings, monuments, 
and hieroglyphics, which ought to have been preserved for 
the benefit of posterity, would be censured in due form, and 
their grave sin against science commented upon with the 
severity required. He reflected a moment and then said: 
' I see no reason why I should object to have the truth made 
known. History is the light of truth ; and when an impartial 
writer undertakes to write the history of a country we must 
not conceal a single fact of public interest.' 

" After saying this he left the room. In about two minutes 
he returned with the priest who had charge of the college li- 
brary. He introduced his subordinate to me and then added: 
' Father Jacobo will be happy to place at your disposal every 
book and manuscript we possess.' The father superior hav- 
ing retired, I engaged in conversation with the librarian, who 
forthwith proceeded to the library, where I perceived many 
thousand books arranged upon shelves, but found only a few 
manuscripts. Among the manuscripts I discovered one of 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 219 

about eight hundred pages, which contained a detailed ac- 
count of the founding of every church built in Mexico and 
Guatemala. The manuscript was not complete; the first 
eighty pages were missing. There were also a few pages of 
a diary kept by one of the first settlers of San Diego, but the 
rest of the diary was missing. I copied a few pages from 
this manuscript; then I tied together every document I 
judged would be of interest to Mr. Bancroft, delivered the 
package to the father librarian, and begged of him to see the 
father superior and request his permission to forward the bun- 
dle to San Francisco. He started to fulfil my request, and 
assured me that though he had no hope of success, because 
it was against the rules of the college, he would make known 
my wishes to his chief. He was absent half an hour, when 
he returned bearing a negative answer. Among other things 
he said that the manuscripts I wanted to send away did not 
belong to the college, but were the property of some pious 
person who had placed them under their charge, with instruc- 
tions not to let the papers go out of their possession. I felt 
convinced that my reverend countryman was telling me the 
truth, so I abstained from urging my petition ; but I limited 
myself to make a single request, namely, that he would be so 
kind as to keep in a separate place the package I had pre- 
pared. He agreed to it. I embraced him Italian style, and 
then directed my steps toward the residence of Mr. Arguello. 

" I rang the bell of the stately dwelling in which the de- 
scendant of governors dwelt, and having been ushered into 
the presence of Mr. Arguello, I stated to him the object of 
my visit. He listened with the air of one anxious to impress 
upon my mind the idea that I stood in the presence of a very 
great man. 

"When I concluded my introductory remarks, he said: 
* Well, well, in all this large house, by far the best one in 
Santa Clara, there does not exist a single scrap of paper that 
could be useful to an historian. I once found a great many 
documents that had been the property of my grandfather, 
also some belonging to my father, but I have set fire to them ; 



220 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

I did not like the idea of encumbering my fine dwelling with 
boxes containing trash, so I got rid of the rubbish by burning 
the whole lot.' 

" Without uttering another word except the usual compli- 
ments, I left the ' best house in Santa Clara ' and took the 
road that led to the telegraph office, and there addressed a 
telegram to General Mariano G. Vallejo, requesting his pres- 
ence in Santa Clara. I took that step because I believed that 
Mr. Argliello had not told me the truth. I thought it so 
strange that a son who had reached the age of fifty years 
should be so stupid as to burn the family archives. I also 
began to fear that my plain talk had given offence ; therefore 
I ventured to send for the good friend of Mr. Bancroft, hoping 
that the high respect in which Mr. Argliello held General 
Vallejo would induce him to place at his disposal any docu- 
ments he might have in the house." 

The widow of Luis Antonio Argliello, and mother of the 
burner of the family archives against whom Cerruti had taken 
a violent dislike, received General Vallejo with open arms, 
and invited the two generals to dine with her. The invita- 
tion was accepted. The paper-burner was there, watching 
the visitors very closely. When dinner was nearly over, 
Cerruti, who was so filled with wrath toward the four-eyed 
Argliello, as he called him, that he found little place for food, 
exclaimed : 

" Madame Argliello, yesterday I asked your eldest son to 
allow me to copy the family archives ; but he assured me that 
the archives and every other document of early days had 
been burned by his orders. Can it be possible ? " 

" Indeed, sir, I am sorry to say that it is true," she replied. 
" And as she called to witness the blessed Virgin," continued 
Cerruti, " I felt convinced that such was the case." 

The two generals called on several of the old residents in 
that vicinity, among them Captain Fernandez, who freely 
gave all the documents in his possession, and furnished a 
valuable dictation. Captain West, on whom they next called, 
at their request sent out to Lick's mills and brought in the 



ITALIAN STRATEGY. 221 

aboriginal Marcelo, who laid claim to one hundred and 
twenty years of this life. 

Gradually working south, the two generals did not stop 
until they had reached Monterey. To the elder there was 
no spot in the country so pregnant with historical events as 
this early capital of California. There was no important town 
so little changed by time and the inroads of a dominant race 
as Monterey. There General Vallejo was at once thrown 
back into his past. Every man and woman was a volume of 
unstrained facts; hedges and thickets bristled with intelli- 
gence; houses, fences, streets, and even the stones in them, 
each had its tale to tell. The crows cawed history; the 
cattle bellowed it, and the sweet sea sang it. An interesting 
chapter could easily be written on Cerruti's report of what he 
and General Vallejo saw and did during this visit to Monte- 
rey ; but other affairs more pressing claim our attention. 



CHAPTER XV. 



GOVERNOR ALVARADO. 



God made man to go by motives, and lie will not go without them, 
any more than a boat without steam or a balloon without gas. 

— Beecher, 

NEXT among the Hispano-Californians in historical impor- 
tance to Mariano G. Vallejo stood his nephew Juan B. 
Alvarado, governor of Cahfornia from 1836 to 1842. At the 
time of which I speak he Hved in a plain and quiet w^ay at 
San Pablo, a small retired town on the eastern side of San 
Francisco bay. In build and bearing he reminded one of 
the * first Napoleon. He was a strong man, mentally and 
physically. Of medium stature, his frame was compact, and 
well forward on broad shoulders was set a head with massive 
jawbones, high forehead, and, up to the age of skty, bright 
intellectual eyes. 

In some respects he was the ablest officer California could 
boast under Mexican regime. He was born in 1809, which 
made him a year younger than his uncle General Vallejo. 
Before he made himself governor he held an appointment in 
the custom-house, and had always been a prominent and 
popular man. His recollections were regarded by every one 
as very important, but exceedingly difficult to obtain. 

First of all he must be brought to favor my undertaking; 
and as he was poor and proud, in ill health, and bitter against 
the Americans, this was no easy matter. 

Alvarado had been much less Americanized than Vallejo ; 
he had mixed little with the new-comers, and could speak 
their language scarcely at all. In common with all his coun- 
trymen he fancied he had been badly abused, had been 



GOVERNOR ALVARADO. 223 

tricked and robbed of millions of dollars which he had never 
possessed, and of hundreds of leagues of land which he had 
neglected to secure to himself. 

Like Vallejo, Alvarado had often been importuned for 
information relative to early affairs, but he had given to the 
world less than his uncle, being less in and of the world as 
it existed in California under Anglo-American domination. 
Surely, one would think so able a statesman, so astute a 
governor as Alvarado, would have been a match for strag- 
glers into his territory, or even for the blatant lawyers that 
followed in their wake, but the same golden opportunities 
that Vallejo and the rest had let slip, Alvarado had failed to 
improve. 

Alvarado was a rare prize; but he was shrewd, and there 
could be but little hope of success in an appeal to the patriot- 
ism of one whose country had fallen into the hands of hated 
strangers. We had thought Vallejo suspicious enough, but 
Alvarado was more so. Then, too, the former governor of 
California, unlike the general, was not above accepting 
money ; not, indeed, as a reward for his services, but as a 
gift. 

Almost as soon as General Vallejo had fairly enlisted in 
the v/ork he began to talk of Alvarado, of his vast knowledge 
of things Californian, and of his ability in placing upon paper 
character and events. And at that time, in regard to this 
work, action was not far behind impulse. Vallejo began to 
importune Alvarado, first by letter, then in person, giving 
him meanwhile liberal doses of Cerruti. 

On one occasion the governor remarked to the general : 
" It seems you insist that Mr. Bancroft is to be our Messiah, 
who will stop the mouth of babblers that insult us. I am of 
the contrary opinion in regard to this, and will tell you why; 
I do not believe that any American, a well-educated literary 
man, will contradict what the ignorant populace say of the 
Californians, from the fact that the Cholada Gringa, or 
Yankee scum, are very numerous, and take advantage of it 
to insult us, as they are many against few. This is a peculi- 



224 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

arity of the American people. To these must be added a 
great number of Irish and German boors, who unite with 
them in these assaults. Were we as numerous as the Chinese, 
it is clear that they would not dare to be wanting in respect 
to us ; but we are merely a few doves in the claws of thou- 
sands of hawks, which lay mines charged with legal witcheries 
in order to entrap us." 

The 24th of August, 1874, General Vallejo writes Governor 
Alvarado : " From the death of Arrillaga in 1 814 to the year 
1846 there is much material for history. I have in relation 
to those times much authentic and original matter, docu- 
ments which no one can refute. To the eminent writer Hu- 
bert H. Brancroft I have given a ton of valuable manuscripts, 
which have been placed in chronological order, under their 
proper headings, in order to faciHtate the labors in which a 
dozen literary men of great knowledge are actually occu- 
pied. That part of the history which cannot be corroborated 
by documentary evidence I myself can vouch for by referring 
to my memory ; and that without fear of straying from the 
truth or falling into anachronisms. Besides, my having been 
identified with upper California since my earliest youth is 
another assistance, as in no less degree is the record of my 
public life. What a vast amount of material ! No one has 
spoken, nor can any one know certain facts as thou and I. All 
the Americans who have dared to write on this subject have 
lied, either maliciously or through ignorance." This letter was 
accompanied by certain questions concerning points which 
the writer had forgotten. 

Governor Alvarado replied to the queries, corroborating 
the general's views. At length promises were extracted from 
the governor that he would write a history, but it should be 
for his family, and not for Mr. Bancroft. There must be 
something of importance to him in the telling of his story. 
If there was money in it, none could spend it better than he ; 
if reputation, his family should have it. 

So he went to work : for in truth, old and ill as he was, he 
had more working power and pluck than any of them. All 



GOVERNOR ALVARADO. 225 

through the autumn of 1874 he wrote history as his health 
permitted, being all the while in correspondence with Cerruti 
and Vallejo, who were similarly engaged, sometimes at So- 
noma, and sometimes at Monterey. " Up to date," he writes 
Vallejo the 4th of December, " I have arranged two hundred 
and forty-one pages, in twenty- one chapters, forming only 
three of the five parts into which I have divided this histor- 
ical compendium." 

Indeed, for a long time past Alvarado had been taking his- 
torical notes, with a view to writing a history of California. 
These notes, however, required arranging and verifying, and 
in his feeble health it was with great difficulty he could be in- 
duced to undertake the work. In writing his history he dis- 
played no little enthusiasm, and seemed specially desirous of 
producing a valuable record. 

" General Cerruti asked of me a narration of the events of 
my own administration," again he says, " and others one of 
Sola's and Argiiello's. These matters are of great importance, 
and taken from my work would leave little of value remain- 
ing. However, I still go on with my labors, and we shall see 
what may be done for the petitioners. In my said notes I 
am forming a chain which begins at Cape San Lucas and 
extends to latitude forty-two north, all of which was denom- 
inated Peninsula^ Territorio^ Provincia^ or Departamenfo^ de 
las Californias, under the different governments and consti- 
tutions, as well as Ntieva y Vieja California and Alta y Baja 
California, I begin with Cortes, who made the first settle- 
ment in Baja California, where my father was born. After- 
ward I come to the Jesuits, and these expelled, to the 
Dominicans; and on the settlement of Alta California in 
1769 I take hold of the Fernandinos, accepting as true what 
was written by Father Francisco Palou concerning events up 
to 1784 in his work entitled Noticias de las Misio?ies, Thence 
I follow my chain till 1848, when Mexico, through cowardice, 
fear, or fraud, sold our native land to the United States. In 
order to go on with this work, I must verify certain dates and 
references. Finally, as regards the frontier of Sonoma, that 
IS 



226 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

remains at your disposition, as I have indicated in my notes, 
for I am not well acquainted with the events which occurred 
there after 1834, when Figueroa sent you to direct the colo- 
nization of that section of country. There you had for near 
neighbors the Russians, and the Hudson's Bay Company, and 
were a sentinel placed to watch that they did not cross the 
line." 

Every effort was now made to beat down Governor Alva- 
rado's scruples and induce him to dictate a complete history 
of the country for my use. Considering his age, the state of 
his health, and the condition of his eyes, which troubled him 
much of the time, he was making no small progress. In this 
way he worked until his manuscript reached three hundred 
and sixty-four pages, but all the time persisted that Bancroft 
should have nothing from him. 

General Vallejo then employed every argument in his 
power to induce Alvarado to take his place in this history. 
" Come forward and refute your slanderers," he said, " not 
hang back and waste your breath in harmless growls at them." 
And again, '* If things are wrong, not only go to work and 
endeavor to make them right, but do it in the best and most 
effectual way." The governor was several times brought to 
the library, where Oak and myself might supplement Valle- 
jo's and Cerruti's efforts. Finally the general so far prevailed 
as to exact the promise desired. Alvarado also lent Vallejo 
his manuscript, and the latter sent it, unknown to Alvarado, 
for inspection to the library, where it remained for some time. 

Cerruti did not fancy the task of writing a second large 
history of California. " I wish you would get some person 
of your confidence," he writes me from Sonoma the 27th of 
November, 1874, ^^to take down the dictation of Governor 
Alvarado, because I cannot do it. My private affairs will 
not allow me to spend one or two years at San Pablo, a dull 
place, as bad as Sonoma." Nevertheless, Alvarado insisting 
upon his attendance, Cerruti was finally induced to under- 
take the work on my permitting him to rent a room, bring 
Alvarado to the city, and take his dictation in San Francisco, 



GOVERNOR ALVARADO. 22 7 

I paying hotel bills and all other expenses, besides keeping 
the governor's historical headquarters plentifully supplied 
with liquors and cigars. 

But this was not all. I had told Alvarado plainly that I 
would not pay him for his information; indeed, he never 
asked me to do so. He would accept nothing in direct pay- 
ment, but he was determined to make the most of it indi- 
rectly. Twenty thousand dollars he would have regarded 
as a small sum for his literary service to me, measured by 
money; hence all I could do for him must be insignificant as 
compared with my obligation. 

Again on the nth of December, 1874, Cerruti writes from 
Sonoma : " With reference to Governor Alvarado I beg to 
observe that I did not think it worth while to cajole him. In 
my letter of October 20th I expressed myself to the effect 
that I did not think it worth while to spend five or six thou- 
sand dollars to get his dictation ; because, with the exception 
of the notes referring to Lower California, written by his 
father, and a few incidents which transpired at Monterey 
while General Vallejo was absent from that place, the whole 
of California's history will be fully embodied in the Recuerdos 
Historicos of General Vallejo, and I did not see why you 
should wish for Governor Alvarado's dictation. Such were 
my views on the 24th of October; but owing to a letter 
received afterward, and the wish often expressed by General 
Vallejo that I should maintain friendly relations with Gov- 
ernor Alvarado, I corresponded with him till the receipt of 
the letter which I forwarded to you last Wednesday. Since 
then I have abstained from writing, for I did not know what 
to write. You will not miss Alvarado's notes on Lower Cali- 
fornia, because General Vallejo has already written to Lower 
CaUfornia to Mr. Gilbert, and I have no doubt that he will 
get many documents from him." 

The fact was, as I have said, Cerruti did not covet the 
task of writing to Alvarado's dictation, and General Vallejo 
could be easily reconciled to the omission of a record which 
might tend in his opinion to lessen the importance of his 



228 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

own. In regard to Alvarado's history Mr. Oak thought 
differently, as the following reference in Cerruti's letter will 
show : 

" I do not look at the matter of Governor Alvarado as you 
do," he writes Cerruti the 24th of October. "I think we 
ought to have his dictation at some time, even if it is a 
repetition of what General Vallejo writes. But perhaps it is 
as well that you have declined the invitation to San Pablo 
for the present, for General Vallejo's dictation is certainly 
more important than all else. Besides, Mr. Bancroft will be 
here during the coming week, and can then himself decide 
the matter." 

At this juncture came a request from Alvarado. He had 
a boy for whom he wished to find employment in the store. 
Anxious to obtain his history, I was ready to do anything 
which he might reasonably or even unreasonably ask. Alva- 
rado wrote Vallejo requesting his influence with me on behalf 
of his son. As soon as their wishes were made known to me 
by Cerruti I sent for the young man, and he was assigned a 
place in the publishing house. 

The boy was nineteen years of age, and had about as 
much of an idea of business, and of applying himself to it, as 
a gray squirrel. The manager endeavored to explain to him 
somewhat the nature of the life now before him. Success 
would depend entirely upon himself The house could not 
make a man of him ; all it could do was to give him an oppor- 
tunity of making a man of himself At first, of course, know- 
ing nothing of business, his services would be worth but little 
to the business. As at school, a year or two would be occu- 
pied in learning the rudiments, and much time would be 
occupied in teaching. For such business tuition no charge 
was made; in fact the firm would pay him a small salary 
from the beginning. The lad was bright and intelligent, and 
seemed to comprehend the situation, expressing himself as 
satisfied with what I had done for him. 

A few days afterward I learned that the boy was back at 
San Pablo, and that a general howl had been raised among 



GOVERNOR ALVARADO. 229 

his countrymen on account of alleged hard treatment of the 
boy by the house ; in fact his position had been worse than 
that of a Chinaman. He was made to work, to wait on 
people like a servant, to pack boxes, fold papers, and carry 
bundles. As a matter of course the old governor was very 
angry. 

I was greatly chagrined, for I feared all was now lost 
with Alvarado. Instituting inquiries into the boy's case, I 
learned that in view of the governor's attitude toward the 
library, and the little need for the boy's services, he had been 
assigned a very easy place, and treated with every courtesy. 
Unluckily some lad from the printing-office, meeting him on 
the stairs soon after he began work, had made a remark at 
which he took offence. 

That w^as enough. The boy immediately wrote his father 
that the manager of the Bancroft establishment had assigned 
him a position beneath that of a Mongolian. It was the old 
story of race persecution. All the people of the United 
States had conspired to crush the native Californians, and 
this was but another instance of it. Young Alvarado was 
immediately ordered home; he should not remain another 
moment where he was so treated. It required the utmost 
efforts of Vallejo and Ccrruti to smooth the ruffled pride of 
the governor. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 

To gather in this great harvest of truth was no light or speedy work. 
His notes ah'eady made a formidable range of volumes, but the crowning 
task would be to condense these voluminous still-accumulating results, 
and bring them like the earlier vintage of Hippocratic books to fit a 
little shelf. — George Eliot 

FOR about two and a half years Generals Cerruti and 
Vallejo applied themselves to my work with a devotion 
scarcely inferior to my own : the former m'eanwhile with some 
assistance carrying forward to completion the history by 
Alvarado. Under the benign influence of the elder general, 
the quick impatient temper of the ItaHan was so subdued 
that he was at length kept almost continuously at confining, 
plodding work, which secretly he abhorred. He preferred 
revolutionizing Costa Rica to writing a hundred-page dic- 
. tation. Yet I am sure for my work he entertained the highest 
respect, and for me true personal regard. 

But after all it was his affection for General Vallejo which 
bound him so long to this work. His esteem for the sage of 
Sonoma was unbounded ; his devotion was more than Bos- 
wellian ; it approached the saintly degree. He would follow 
him to the ends of the earth, cheerfully undertaking any- 
thing for him ; and almost before Vallejo's wish was expressed 
Cerruti had it accomplished. Yet withal the Italian never 
sank into the position of servant. He was as quick as ever 
to resent a fancied slight, and Vallejo himself, in order to 
maintain his influence over him, must needs humor many 
vagaries. 

It was not a little strange to see these two men, so widely 
separated, both in their past actions and in their present 

230 



CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 23 1 

ambitions, fired by the same enthusiasm, and that by reason 
of a conception which was not theirs, and fi.*om which neither 
of them could hope for any great or tangible personal bene- 
fit; and that it should last so long was most remarkable of 
all. In reahty they continued until their work was finished ; 
and although neither of them had been accustomed to con- 
tinuous appHcation in any direction, they labored as long and 
as diligently each day as natives of more northern climes are 
wont to apply themselves. During the years 1874-6 the 
time of the two generals was divided between Sonoma, San 
Francisco, and Monterey, and in making divers excursions 
from these places. 

No sooner was it known that General Vallejo was writing 
history for me than- he was besieged by an army of applicants 
suddenly grown history-hungry. In a letter dated Sonoma, 
8th of December, 1874, Cerruti says: " General Vallejo and 
I will go to the city next week. Historical men, newspaper 
scribblers, and all sorts of curious persons are daily address- 
ing letters to the general asking for information. He is 
really bothered to death. I enclose one of the petitions so 
you may judge of the style of persecution he is subject to. 
On hand one hundred pages of manuscript which I consider 
very interesting. Mr. Thompson, of the Democrat^ is in pos- 
session of a large amount of useful information with reference 
to the Russian settlements of Bodega and Ross. He has 
been collecting material for ten years, during which time he 
has interviewed nearly sixty ancient settlers." Mr. Thomp- 
son very kindly placed at my disposal his entire material. 
His sketches he had taken in short-hand, and at my request 
he had the more important written out and sent to me. 

From Monterey, the 6th of January, 1875, Vallejo wrote 
as. follows : " General Cerruti and I go on writing and col- 
lecting documents for the history, and since our arrival have 
written over one hundred pages. We have many venerable 
documents, which I have not yet looked over, for this dic- 
tating and narrating reminiscences stupefies the memory. 



232 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Moreover, I have to give attention to visitors, who sometimes 
occupy my time, but who are necessary when the history of 
their days and mine is written, and whom I need in order to 
keep my promise of aiding you. I think you would do well 
to come down here ; for although there are no such living 
accommodations as in San Francisco, lodgings are not want- 
ing, and thus you would change your routine of study life. 
Here exist two barrels of old papers belonging to Manuel 
Castro, which I have not been able to obtain, because it is 
intended to profit by them. However, if you show yourself 
indifferent, it is probable that you may obtain them at small 
expense — that is, provided Hittell, or others who take an 
interest in old papers, do not cross you. Make use of a very 
Yankee policy, and within two months you will be the pos- 
sessor of the richest collection in existence with reference to 
upper California. In the archives of Salinas City, of which 
my nephew has charge, many documents exist. He has 
promised to do all in his power to aid your undertaking." 

The Hartnell papers were regarded as of great impor- 
tance, and General Vallejo could not rest until they were 
secured for the library. Hartnell was an Englishman, who 
had come to California at an early date, and had married an 
hija del pais^ Teresa de la Guerra, by whom he had been 
made twenty-five times a father. Failing as a merchant at 
Monterey, in company with the Reverend Patrick Short he 
opened a boys' academy at El Alisal, his residence near that 
place. He was appointed visitador general de misioites by 
Governor Alvarado, and after the arrival of the Americans 
was for a time state interpreter. He was regarded by many 
as the most intelligent foreigner who up to that time had 
arrived on this shore. Applying to the widow of Mr. Hart- 
nell, General Vallejo received the following very welcome 
reply : " Although most of the papers left by Don Guillermo 
have been lost, it may be that among the few which I still 
preserve some may be of use to thee. But as to this thou 
canst know better than I ; perhaps it were well that thou 
comest to see them. The papers which I have are at thy 



CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 233 

disposal.'* The collection of documents thus so modestly 
valued and so cheerfully given proved to be of great value, 
and were duly bound and accredited to the former owner. 

Hearing of a deposit of important papers some sixty miles 
from Monterey, the 6th of March General Vallejo sent Cer- 
ruti to secure them. Nine days later Vallejo writes as fol- 
lows : " To-day I send you a trunk full of documents of 
very great historic value. Do me the favor to charge your 
assistants not to open it before my return to San Francisco, 
for it is necessary for me to give certain explanations before 
making you a present of its contents. However, from this 
moment count on the documents as belonging to yourself; 
and if I die upon the journey, make such disposition of the 
trunk and the papers which it contains as may seem good to 
you. The young man Biven, whom in days past I recom- 
mended to you, is, I hear, given to drinking; but I also 
know that he has many ancient documents, a trunkful, which 
belonged to his deceased grandfather, Ainza. It seems to 
me that some diplomacy is necessary in order to secure them, 
though he promised at San Francisco to give me them/' 

Wherever he might be, Cerruti was unremitting in his la- 
bors. The 29th of July he writes from Monterey : " I enclose 
an article written in the Spanish language, which I believe 
ought to be translated into English. I am certain it would 
do a great deal of good. To-day General Vallejo has re- 
ceived a lot of documents from Soledad." 

And again the 3d of August : " Yesterday we heard of the 
existence of a large collection of historical documents." Be- 
ing engaged in another direction, it Avas resolved to send a 
third person in quest of these papers immediately ; and a few 
days later I received intelHgence : " The envoy of General 
Vallejo left to-day for San Luis Obispo." 

While the warmest friendship existed between the two gen- 
erals during the whole of their intercourse, they were not with- 
out their little differences. General Vallejo used to say to 
me : " Cerruti wishes to hurry me, and I Avill not be hurried. 



234 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Often he solemnly assures me that Mr. Bancroft will not be 
satisfied unless a certain number of pages are written every 
week ; and I ask him who is writing this history, myself or 
Mr. Bancroft ? " On the other hand, Cerruti in his more 
petulant moods frequently dropped words of dissatisfaction. 
"You cannot conceive," he writes me the i8th of August 
from Monterey, " how pleased I shall be when the work is 
complete. It has caused me many unhappy moments and 
many sacrifices of pride." On a former occasion he had 
complained : " The parish priest of Monterey has brought to 
our office the books of his parish. I could make a good 
many extracts from them, but I will not undertake the task 
because I am in a very great hurry to leave Monterey. I am 
heartily sick of the whole work, and I wish it was already fin- 
ished. This town is like a convent of friars, and the sooner 
I leave it the better. If I remain in it a month longer I will 
become an old man. I see only old people, converse as to 
days gone by. At my meals I eat history ; my bed is made 
of old documents, and I dream of the past. Yet I would 
cheerfully for your sake stand the brunt of hard times were 
it not that your agents have wounded me in my pride, the 
only vulnerable point in my whole nature." 

The ItaHan was very ambitious to show results, and fre- 
quently complained that Vallejo insisted too much on tearing 
up each day a portion of the manuscript which had been 
written the day before. This present effort at Monterey 
lasted one month and two days, during which time three 
hundred pages were completed. On the other hand, three 
months would sometimes slip by with scarcely one hundred 
pages written. 

In bringing from Santa Cruz two large carpet-bags filled 
with documents collected in that vicinity, by some means 
they were lost in landing at San Francisco. Vallejo was 
chagrined; Cerruti raved. The steamship company was 
informed that unless the papers were recovered the wheels 
of Californian affairs would cease to revolve. The police 
were notified; searchers were sent out in every direction; 



' CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 235 

the offer of a liberal reward was inserted in the daily papers. 
Finally, after two days of agony, the lost documents were 
found and safely lodged in the library. 

Notwithstanding he was at the time suffering from serious 
illness, Jose de Jesus Vallejo, brother of General Vallejo, 
gave me a very valuable dictation of one hundred and 
seventy-seven pages, taken at his residence at Mission San 
Jose. The author of this contribution was bom at San Jose 
in 1798, and in his later years was administrator of the mis- 
sion of that name. 

"The priest of this mission," writes Cerruti the nth of 
April, 1875, " the Very Reverend Father Cassidy, has kindly 
loaned me the mission books. They are seven in number. 
From six of them I will make extracts. Number seven is 
very interesting, and according to my opinion ought to be 
copied in full.'* 

The next day Mr. Oak wrote me from San Francisco — I 
was at Oakville at the time — "General Vallejo came to 
town the last of this week, summoned by a telegram stating 
that his brother was dying. He and Cerruti immediately left 
for Mission San Jose. Cerruti has been back once and 
reports great success in getting documents. The chief diffi- 
culty seems to be to keep the general from killing his 
brother with historical questionings. He fears his brother 
may die without telling him all he knows. Cerruti brings a 
book from the Mission which can be kept for copying. It 
seems of considerable importance. It will make some two 
weeks' work, and I have taken the liberty to employ Pina, the 
best of the old hands, to do the work." 

Again, the i8th of April, from Mission San Jose, Cerruti 
writes : " Besides the dictation, I have on hand many docu- 
ments and old books. I am told that in the vicinity of the 
Mission are to be found many old residents who have docu- 
ments, but I abstain from going after them because the 
travelling expenses are very high, and not having seen 
the documents I cannot judge whether they are worth the 
expense. Among others, they say that at the Milpitas ran- 



236 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

cho lives a native Californian, called Crisostomo Galindo, 
who is one hundred and three years old, and is supposed to 
be the possessor of documents. Shall I go to see him ? " 
A week later he says : " The dictation of Don Jose de Jesus 
Vallejo is progressing a great deal faster than I had antici- 
pated. I have been with him seven days and have already 
on hand seventy pages of nearly three hundred words each." 

Thomas O. Larkin was United States consul at Monterey 
when Cahfornia fell into the hands of the United States ; he 
was then made naval agent. Born at Charlestown, Massa- 
chusetts, in 1802, he came hither in 1832 as supercargo of a 
Boston trading vessel, and was subsequently quite successful 
as general merchant and exporter of lumber. He made the 
models for the first double-geared wheat-mill at Monterey 
at a time when only ship-carpenters could be found there. 
Wishing to take a wife, and as a Protestant being outside the 
pale of Catholic matrimony, he went with the lady on board 
a vessel on the Califomian coast, and was married under the 
United States flag by J. C. Jones, then United States consul 
at the Hawaiian Islands. 

In 1845 President Polk commissioned him to sound the 
Californians as to change of flag, and during the year fol- 
lowing he was active in his exertions to secure California to 
the United States ; and for his fidelity and zeal in these and 
other matters he received the thanks of the president. 

Into the hands of such a man as Mr. Larkin during the 
course of these years naturally would fall many important 
papers, and we should expect him to be possessed of suffi- 
cient intelligence to appreciate their value and to preserve 
them. Nor were we disappointed. At his death Mr. Larkin 
left a large and very valuable mass of documents, besides 
a complete record of his official correspondence from 1844 
to 1849. This record comprised two very large foHo vol- 
umes, afterward bound in one. 

Charles H. Sawyer, attorney for certain of the heirs of 
Thomas O. Larkin, and always a warm friend of the library, 



CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 237 

first called my attention to the existence of these most im- 
portant archives. He had made copies of a few of them 
selected for that purpose, and the blank-book in which such 
selections had been transcribed Mr. Sawyer kindly presented. 
Mr. Larkin's papers, he assured me, would be most difficult 
to obtain, even should the heirs be inclined to part with 
them, since one was at the east and another too ill to be 
seen. 

Accompanied by Cerruti, I called on Mr. Alfred Larkin, 
one of the sons, whose office was then on Merchant street. 
I was received in the most cordial manner. The papers, 
he said, were beyond his control. He would use his best 
endeavors to have them placed in my hands. As the result 
of this interview I secured the record books, than which 
nothing could be more important in the history of that epoch. 

Some time passed before anything further was accom- 
plished, but in the mean time I never lost sight of the 
matter. These papers should be placed on my shelves as a 
check on the Alvarado and Vallejo testimony. At length I 
learned that Mr. Sampson Tams, a very intelligent and 
accomplished gentleman who had married a daughter of Mr. 
Larkin, had full possession and control of all the Larkin 
archives. I lost no time in presenting my request, and was 
seconded in my efforts by several friends. The result was 
that with rare and most commendable liberality Mr. Tams 
presented me with the entire collection, which now stands 
upon the shelves of my library in the form of nine large 
volumes. 

While engaged in my behalf at Monterey, General Val- 
lejo^s enthusiasm often waxed so warm as almost to carry 
him away. Shortly before the suspension of the Bank of Cali- 
fornia he had thought seriously of going south on a literary 
mission. " I have hopes of getting together many ancient 
documents from persons at Los Angeles who have promised 
to aid me," he writes the 13th of July; and again, the 27th 
of August : " I assure you that two or three weeks since I 
resolved upon the journey to San Diego, stopping at all the 



238 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

missions. This I had resolved to do at my own proper cost, 
without your being obliged to spend more money ; for to me 
it would be a great pleasure to give this additional proof of 
the interest I take in your great work. Until yesterday such 
was my intention ; but this morning I find myself obliged to 
abandon it, on account of the failure of the Bank of Cali- 
fornia, which renders it necessary for me to return to San 
Francisco in order to arrange my affairs. I have endeavored 
to persuade Cerruti to undertake the journey, I furnishing 
him with letters of introduction to all my friends, but he has 
refused to venture into deep water, until the conclusion of the 
Historia de California which I am dictating. I know that 
Cerruti always desires to avoid expense without some cor- 
responding benefit to yourself" 

The original proposal was for General Vallejo to bring his 
history down to the year 1846, the end of Mexican domina- 
tion in California. Writing from Monterey the 27 th of August 
he says : " By the 3d of September I shall have finished the 
fourth volume of the Historia de California ; that is to say, 
the whole history down to 1846, the date which I proposed 
as its termination, at the time when, yielding to your entrea- 
ties, I undertook to write my recollections of the country. 
But in these latter days I have managed to interest General 
Frisbie and other important personages acquainted with 
events in California from 1846 to 1850, so that they agree to 
contribute their contingent of light ; and I have resolved to 
bring my history down to this later date, in case you should 
deem it necessary. It is my intention to go to Vallejo, where 
in the course of three or four weeks I trust to be able to give 
the finishing stroke to my work, which I trust will merit the 
approbation of yourself and other distinguished writers." 

" I have caused Captain Cayetano Juarez to come to 
Lachryma Montis," says General Vallejo in a letter from 
Sonoma dated the 4th of October, "in order that he may 
aid me to write all which appertains to the evil doings of 
the ^Bears' in 1846-7. Captain Juarez, who was a witness 
present at the time, and a truthful and upright man, and 



CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 239 

myself are engaged in recalling all those deeds just as they 
occurred. What I relate is very distinct from what has been 
hitherto published by writers who have desired to represent 
as heroes the men who robbed me and my countrymen 
of our property. American authors desire to excuse those 
robbers with the pretext that in some cases the ^Bear' cap- 
tains gave receipts for the articles of which they took for- 
cible possession; but as those receipts were worthless, the 
Califomians have the right to say that the ' Bears/ or a 
majority of them, were robbers." 

War's alarum always threw the mercurial and mettlesome 
Cerruti into a state of excitement, which rose to the verge of 
frenzy when his old field of revolutionary failures was the 
scene of action. Even rumors of war between Mexico and 
the United States, which were of frequent occurrence, were 
usually too much for his equanimity. I remember one in- 
stance in particular, while he was writing at General Vallejo's 
dictation, in November, 1875, news came of serious troubles in 
the south, and he gave me notice that he should be obliged 
to abandon his work and fly to the rescue of something or 
to death. I requested Vallejo to pacify him, since he might 
not receive my opinion in the matter as wholly disinterested. 
Shortly afterward Cerruti returned for a time to San Fran- 
cisco, and General Vallejo wrote him there. After a lengthy 
and flowery review of their labors as associates during the 
last year and a half. General Vallejo goes on to say: *^I have 
heard that the noise made by the press in relation to the 
annexation of Mexico to the United States has made a deep 
impression upon you, and that you contemplate going to see 
the world in those regions. Believe me. General, e/ ruido es 
mas que las niieces. If, as is said, it were certain that war be- 
tween the two republics is about to break out, then you might 
go forth in search of adventures, but not otherwise. Under 
such circumstances Mexico would play the role of the smaller 
fish, and the consequence would be that manifest destiny 
would absorb Chihuahua and Sonora. It is necessary to 
wait until what is passing in the lofty regions of diplomacy 



240 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

be disclosed. My opinion is that you should wait." Vallejo's 
arguments were convincing : Cerruti abandoned his project. 
The general concludes his letter as follows : " To-morrow I 
shall leave for San Francisco to see you, and if possible we 
will go to Healdsburg. I beheve that there v/e shall harvest 
the papers of Mrs. Fitch, and obtain from her a very good 
narration concerning San Diego matters, its siege by the Cal- 
ifornians, the imprisonment of Captain Fitch, Bandini, and 
others." General Vallejo came down as he proposed; the 
breast of the hero of Bolivian revolutions was quiet ; the two 
generals proceeded to Healdsburg, and a thick volume of 
documents lettered as the archives of the Fitch family was 
thereby secured to the library. 

On the 9th of October, 1876, at Sonoma, Enrique Cerruti 
killed himself. I was east at the time, and the painful intel- 
ligence was sent me by General Vallejo. The cause of this 
deplorable act was losses in mining stocks. For a year past 
he had been gambling in these in-securities, and during the 
latter part of this time he was much demoralized. The dis- 
grace attending failures was beyond his endurance. 

When I left San Francisco in June he attended me to 
the ferry, and was outwardly in his usual health and spirits. 
He continued his work at the library only a few wrecks after 
my departure, so that when he died he had not been in my 
service for three months; indeed, so nervous and eccentric 
had become his brain by his speculations that for some time 
past he had been totally unfit for Hterary labor. 

He wrote me for two thousand dollars ; but his letter lay 
in New York while I was absent in the White Mountains, 
and I did not receive it till too late. The amount he asked 
for, however, even if I had been in time with it, would not 
have saved him, for he owed, as was afterward estimated, 
from fifteen to twenty thousand dollars. He had borrowed 
this money from his friends, and had lost it ; and his inability 
to pay well-nigh maddened him. He talked of suicide for 
six months previous, but no attention was paid to his threats. 



CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN. 241 

Just before leaving for Sonoma he bade all farewell for the 
last time ; some laughed at him, others offered to bet with 
him that he would not do it ; no one believed him. He had 
quarrelled and made peace alternately with every person in 
the library ; he had denounced every friend he had, one after 
the other, as the cause of his ruin. Then again it was his 
fate; he had been so cursed from childhood. However, 
death should balance all accounts, and swallow all dishonor ; 
though his friends failed to perceive how a claim against a 
dead Cerruti was better than a claim against a live one. 

Why he selected Sonoma as the point of his final depart- 
ure no one knows, unless it was for dramatic effect. He 
was a lover of notoriety ; and a tragic act would command 
more attention there than in a large city. Then there were 
the Vallejos, his dearest friends — he might have chosen to 
be buried near them. Gunpowder, too, one would have 
thought nearer akin to his taste than drugs. He was fully 
determined to die, for, laudanum failing, he resorted to 
strychnine. Awakened by his groans, the hotel people sent 
for Mrs. Vallejo, who tried to administer an antidote, but he 
refused to receive it. The coroner telegraphed the firm, and 
the library was represented at the burial. 

Poor, dear Cerruti ! If I had him back with me alive, I 
would not give him up for all Nevada's mines. His ever 
welcome presence ; his ever pleasing speech, raxy in its 
harmless bluster; his ever charming ways, fascinating in 
their guileful simplicity, the far-reaching round earth does 
not contain his like. Alas, Cerruti! with another I might 
say, I could have better lost a better man ! 



16 



CHAPTER XVII. 

HOME. 

There is no happiness in life, there is no misery, hke that growing out 
of the dispositions which consecrate or desecrate a home. — Chapin. 

I ALMOST despaired of ever having a home again. I was 
growing somewhat old for a young wife, and I had no 
fancy for taking an old one. The risk on both sides I felt to 
be great. A Buffalo lady once wrote me: "All this time 
you might be making some one person happy." I replied : 
" All this time I might be making two persons miserable.'* 
And yet no one realized more fully than myself that a happy 
marriage doubles the resources, and completes the being 
which otherwise fails in the fullest development of its intui- 
tions and yearnings. The twain are, in the nature human, 
one ; each without loss gives what the other lacks. 

New Haven had been the home of her whom I made my 
wife, and of the families of that old university town hers was 
among the most respected. It was there I first met her, and 
afterward at Bethlehem, the highest of New England villages. 
Walking down the dusty road, we turned aside into a rocky 
field, crossing into a lane which led us to a tangled wood, 
where, seated on a fallen tree, each spoke the words to speak 
which we were there. It was the 12th of October, 1876, 
that I married Matilda Coley Grifhng ; and from the day 
that she was mine, wherever her sweet presence, there was 
my home. 

For obvious reasons, a middle-aged man ought to make a 
better husband than a very young man. He has had more 
experience; he should know more, have better control of 
himself, and be better prepared to have consideration for 



HOME. 243 

those dependent upon him for happiness or support. The 
young man, particularly one who has not all his life enjoyed 
the noblest and best of female society, does not always enter- 
tain the highest opinion of woman, never having reached the 
finer qualities of her mind and heart, and having no concep- 
tion of the superiority of her refined and gentle nature over 
his own. Hence the inexperienced youth, launched upon 
the untried ocean of matrimony, often finds himself in the 
midst of storms which might have been with ease avoided, 
had he been possessed of greater tact or experience. 

And the children which come later in the lives of their 
parents — we might say, happy are they as compared with 
those who appeared before them. It is safe to say that one- 
half the children born into the world die in infancy through 
the ignorance or neglect of their parents ; and of the other 
half, their lives for the most part are made miserable from the 
same cause. The young husband and father chafes under the 
new cares and anxieties incident to untried responsibilities 
which interfere with his comfort and pleasure, and the child 
must suffer therefrom. Often a newly married pair are not 
ready at once to welcome children ; they are perhaps too 
much taken up with themselves and the pleasures and pas- 
times of society. Later in hfe parents are better prepared, 
more in the humor it may be, more ready to find their chief 
pleasure in welcoming to the world successive reproductions of 
themselves, and watching the physical and mental unfolding, 
and ministering to the comfort and joy of the new and strange 
little beings committed to them. 

There was no lack of sympathy between us, my wife and 
me, no lack of heart, and head, and hand help. After the 
journeying incident to this new relationship was over, and 
I once more settled to work, all through the days and years 
of future ploddings patiently by my side she sat, her face 
the picture of happy contentment, assisting me with her quick 
application and sound discrimination, making notes, studying 
my manuscript, and erasing or altering such repetitions and 
solecisms as crept into my work. 



244 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

At White Sulphur Springs, and Santa Cruz, where we spent 
-the following spring and summer, on the hotel porches used 
to sit the feather-brained women of fashion from the city — 
used there to sit and gossip all the morning, and all the 
evening, while we were at our work ; and I never before so 
realized the advantage to woman of ennobHng occupation. 
Why should she be the vain and trifling thing, intellectually, 
that she generally is ? How long will those who call them- 
selves ladies exercise their influence to make work degrading, 
and only folly fashionable ? 

But little cared we for any of them. We were content; 
nay, more, we were very happy. Rising early and breakfast- 
ing at eight o'clock, we devoted the forenoon to work. After 
luncheon Ave walked, or rode, or drove, usually until dinner, 
after which my wife and daughter mingled with the company, 
while I wrote often until ten or eleven o'clock. In this way 
I could average ten hours a day ; which, but for the extraor- 
dinary strength of my constitution, was twice as much as I 
should have done. 

It was a great saving to me of time and strength, this 
taking my work into the country. In constant communica- 
tion with the library, I could draw thence daily such fresh 
material as I required, and as often as necessary visit the 
library in person, and have supervision of things there. Thus 
was my time divided between the still solitude of the coun- 
try and the noisy solitude of the city. 

Never in my life did I work harder or accomplish more 
than during the years immediately succeeding my marriage, 
while at the same time body and mind grew stronger under 
the fortifying influences of home. 

For a year and more before my marriage I had been 
under promise to my daughter to go east at the close of her 
summer school-term and accompany her to the centennial 
exhibition at Philadelphia. This I did, leaving San Francisco 
the 15th of June, 1876, and taking her, with her two cousins 
and a young lady friend, to the great world's show, there to 



HOME. 245 

spend the first two weeks in July. Thence we all returned to 
New Haven. 

Immediately after my marriage we went to New York and 
thence to Washington, where we saw Major and Mrs. Powell, 
George Bancroft, Judge Field, Mr. Spofford, and many others. 
After a day at Mount Vernon we proceeded to Baltimore, 
there to meet President Oilman, Brantz Mayer, and other 
friends. Though both of us had seen the exhibition, we 
could not pass it by upon the present occasion, and accord- 
ingly spent a week in Philadelphia. 

I had long desired a dictation from John A. Sutter. In- 
deed I regarded the information which he alone could give 
as absolutely essential to my history, as he was the first to 
settle in the valley of the Sacramento, so near the spot where 
gold was discovered, and v\^as so prominent in those parts 
during the vdiole period of the Califomian Inferno. 

Leaving Philadelphia in the morning, and passing up the 
beautiful valley of the Schuylkill, about noon we reached our 
destination at the Litiz Springs. Why this bold Swiss, who 
for a dozen years or more was little less than king among the 
natives of the Sierra foothills, should leave that land of sun- 
shine, and hide himself in a dismal Dutch village, was a mys- 
tery to me. Accident seemed to have directed him thither 
to a Moravian school, as suitable in which to place a grand- 
daughter. This step led to the building of a house, and 
there he intended at this time to end his days. Well, no 
doubt heaven is as near Litiz as Cahfomia ; but sure I am, 
the departure thence is not so pleasant. 

At the Litiz Springs hotel, directly opposite to which stood 
General Sutter's two-story brick dwelling, we were told that 
the old gentleman was ill, unable to receive visitors, and 
that it would be useless to attempt to see him. There was 
only one man, the barber, who went every day to shave the 
general, who could gain me audience, if such a thing were pos- 
sible. I declined with thanks his services, and ordered dinner. 

" I will go over and see his wife, at all events," I said to 
the clerk. 



246 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

" That will not help you," was the reply; " she is deaf." 

" Who else is there in the family ? " 

"A granddaughter." 

That was sufficient. I did not propose to lose my journey 
to Litiz, and what was more, this, probably my last opportu- 
nity for securing an important dictation. I was determined 
to see the general, and ascertain for myself how matters stood. 

After knocking loudly at the portal three several times, the 
door was slowly, silently opened a little way, and the head of 
an old woman appeared at the aperture. 

" Is this Mrs. Sutter ? " I asked. 

No response. 

" May I speak with you a moment in the hall ? " 

Still no response, and no encouragement for me to enter. 
There she stood, the guardian of, apparently, as impregnable 
a fortress as ever was Fort Sutter in its palmiest days. I 
must gain admission ; retreat now might be fatal. Stepping 
toward the small opening as if there was no obstacle what- 
ever to my entering, as the door swung back a little at my 
approach, I slipped into the hall. 

Once within, no ogress was there. Mrs. Sutter was a tall, 
thin, intelligent woman, plainly dressed, and with a shawl 
thrown over her shoulders. Her English was faulty, but she 
readily understood me, and her deafness was not at all 
troublesome. 

Handing her my card, I asked to see General Sutter. 
" I know he is ill," said I, " but I must see him." Taking 
the card, she showed me into a back parlor, and then with- 
drew. From Mrs. Sutter's manner, no less than from what 
had been told me at the hotel, I was extremely fearful that I 
had come too late, and that all of history that house contained 
was in the fevered brain of a dying man. 

But presently, to my great astonishment and delight, the 
door opened, and the general himself entered at a brisk pace. 
He appeared neither very old nor very feeble. He was rather 
below medium height, and stout. His step was still firm, his 
bearing soldierly, and in his younger days he must have been 



HOME. 247 

a man of much endurance, v/ith a remarkably fine physique. 
His features were of the Germ.an cast, broad, full face, intel- 
lectual forehead, with white hair, bald on the top of the head, 
white side -whiskers, mustache, and imperial; and a deep, 
clear, earnest eye. Seventy-five years, apparently, sat not 
heavily upon him. He was suffering severely from rheuma- 
tism, and used a cane to assist him in walking about the house. 
He complained of failing memory, but I saw no indication 
of it in the five days' dictating which followed. 

No one could be in General Sutter's presence long with- 
out feeling satisfied that he was a natural born gentleman. 
He had more the manners of a courtier than of a backwoods- 
man, but with this difference : his speech and bearing were 
the promptings of a kind heart, unaffected and sincere. He 
received me kindly, and listened with deep attention to my 
plan for a history of the Pacific States as I laid it before him, 
perceiving at once the difference betw^een my work and that 
of local historians and newspaper reporters, by whom all the 
latter part of his life he had been besieged. 

" I have been robbed and ruined," he exclaimed, " by 
lawyers and politicians. When gold was discovered I had 
my fortress, my mills, my farms, leagues of land, thousands 
of cattle and horses, and a thousand tamed natives at my 
bidding. Where are they now ? Stolen ! My men were 
crushed by the iron heel of civilization; my cattle were 
driven off by hungry gold-seekers ; my fort and mills were 
deserted and left to decay ; my lands were squatted on by 
overland emigrants; and finally I was cheated out of all 
my property. All Sacramento was once mine." 

" General," said I, " this appears to have been the com- 
mon fate of those who owned vast estates at the coming of 
the Americans. It was partly owing to the business inexpe- 
rience of the holders of land grants, though this surely can- 
not apply to yourself, and partly to the unprincipled tricksters 
who came hither to practise in courts of law. The past is 
past. One thing yet remains for you to do, which is to see 
your wonderful experiences properly placed on record for 



248 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the benefit of posterity. You fill an important niche in the 
history of the western coast. Of certain events of a certain 
era and locality you are the living embodiment. Often in 
my labors I have encountered your name, your deeds; and 
let me say that I have never yet heard the former mentioned 
but in kindness, nor the latter except in praise." 

Tears came to the old man's eyes, and his utterance was 
choked, as he signified his willingness to relate to me all he 
knew. 

" You arrived," said he, " at a most opportune moment; I 
am but just out of bed, and I feel I shall be ill again in a few 
days, when it will be impossible for me to see or converse 
with any one." 

I said I had come to Litiz on this special business, and 
asked how much time he could devote to it each day. 

" All the time," he replied, " if you will conform to my 
hours. Come as early as you like in the morning, but we 
must rest at six o'clock. I retire early." 

Ten hours a day for the next five days resulted in two hun- 
dred pages of manuscript, which was subsequently bound and 
placed in the library. Forty pages a day kept me very busy, 
and at night I was tired enough. Meanwhile my devoted 
wife sat patiently by, sometimes sewing, always lending an 
attentive ear, with occasional questions addressed to the 
general. 

For a short time after our return to San Francisco the 
Palace Hotel appeared to us as curious as a menagerie ; then 
it became as distasteful as a prison. Nevertheless we had 
many pleasant little dinner parties the winter we were there, 
made up of widely different characters. First there were our 
nearest and dearest friends, those who had always been to 
me more than relatives. Then there were the intellectually 
social ; and a third class were Spanish-speaking Californians 
and Mexicans, among whom w^ere Pio Pico, General Vallejo, 
Governor Alvarado, Governor Pacheco, and the Mexican 
refugees, President Iglesias, and Senores Prieto and Palacio 



HOME. 



249 



of his cabinet. Mrs. Bancroft began the study of Spanish, 
and made rapid progress; my daughter Kate was already 
quite at home in that language. 

It was no part of our plan immediately to domicile our- 
selves in any fixed residence. Change seemed necessary to 
my brain, strained as it was to its utmost tension perpetually. 
It was about the only rest it would take. What is commonly 
called pleasure was not pleasure so long as there was so much 
work piled up behind it. I must change position occasion- 
ally, and feed upon new surroundings, or I became restless 
and out of health. Then we had before us much travelling. 
The vast territory whose history I was writing must be visited 
in its several parts, some of them many times. There was 
the great Northwest Coast to be seen, Oregon, Washington, 
and British Columbia; there were Utah, New Mexico, and 
Arizona; likewise the sunny south, southern California, Mex- 
ico, and Central America. Besides, there was much search- 
ing of archives in Europe yet to be done. So we must 
content ourselves for the present with making the world our 
home, any part of it in which night happened to overtake 
us. Nevertheless, after a year in Oakland, and a winter 
spent by Mrs. Bancroft at New Haven, I purchased a resi- 
dence on Van Ness avenue, where for many long and busy 
years echoed the voices of little ones, watched over by a 
contented mother in whose heart was that perpetual sunshine 
which best pleaseth God. This was indeed Home. 



CHAPTER XVIIL 

SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES. 

There are some who think that the brooding patience which a great 
work calls for belonged exclusively to an earlier period than ours. 

— Lo-tvelL 

DURING the first ten years of these Ingatherings and 
Industries a dark cloud of discouragement hung over 
my efforts, in the form of nearly four hundred volumes, with 
from seven hundred to nineteen hundred pages each, of 
original documents, lodged in the office of the United States 
surveyor-general in San Francisco. Though containing much 
on mission affairs, they constituted the regular archives of the 
secular government from the earliest period of Californian 
history. They were nearly all in Spanish, many of them in 
very bad Spanish, poorly written, and difficult to decipher. 

On the secularization of the missions, that is to say the 
removal of their property from missionary control, in many 
instances to its ruin and the breaking up of mission estab- 
lishments in California, some few loose papers found their 
way to the college of San Fernando, in Mexico, which was 
the parent institution. The clergy still held the mission 
church buildings, and in some instances the out-houses and 
orchards ; and the mission books, proper, remained naturally 
in their control. There were likewise left at some of the 
missions bundles of papers, notably at Santa Barbara; but 
these, though of the greatest importance, were not very 
bulky in comparison to the secular archives. 

More to be considered by the historian were the records 
and documents of the several municipalities along the south- 
em seaboard, which with the papers kept by retired officials, 

250 



SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES. 251 

and those treasured by the old and prominent famihes, 
formed a very important element in the marshalled testimony. 
Thus matters stood when Cahfomia was made a state of 
the great American confederation ; and when counties were 
formed by act of legislature of 1850, the correspondence, 
papers, and records of local officials under Mexican rule, al- 
caldes^ jueccs de primera mstancia, and others, Avere ordered 
deposited with the clerk of each county. 

The United States government took possession in 1846-7 
of all the territorial records that could be found — an im- 
mense mass, though by no means all that existed — and in 
185 1 the public archives in all parts of California were called 
in and placed in charge of the United States surveyor-gen- 
eral in San Francisco, and of these Mr. R. C. Hopkins was 
made custodian. Such of the pueblo and presidial archives 
as were deemed of importance to the general government 
were also held in San Francisco. Many, however, of great 
historic value were never removed from their original lodg- 
ments, and many others were returned to them, for of such 
material much was found by my searchers in various places 
at different times. As these archives finally stood they con- 
sisted of the official correspondence of the superior and other 
authorities, civil and financial, miHtary and ecclesiastic, of 
Mexico and the Californias, from the formation of the first 
mission in 1769, and even a little further back, to the time 
California was admitted into the Union ; not complete, but 
full during parts of the time and meagre in other parts. As 
will be seen, I was so fortunate as to obtain the missing 
records from other sources. 

When E. M. Stanton came with power from AVashington 
to attend to land and other affairs of the government he 
ordered these archives bound. Although some divisions of 
the papers were made, little attention was paid to chronolog- 
ical or other arrangement. Said one of my assistants to me 
after a preliminary examination : " The whole thing is a jum- 
ble ; so far as their value to your work is concerned, or your 
being able to find, by searching, any particular incident of 



252 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

any particular period, the papers might as well be in hay- 
stack form." 

What was to be done? The thought of attacking the 
great dragon of these investigations had been for many years 
in my mind as a nightmare, and while doggedly pursuing 
more puny efforts I tried to shake it from me, and not think 
of it. There was much material aside from that, more than 
enough for my purpose, perhaps ; besides, some one could 
go through the mass and take from it what I lacked, in the 
usual form of historical notes. 

But such reasoning would not do. The monster would 
not thus be frightened away. All the time, to be honest with 
myself, I well knew that I must have before me all existing 
material that could be obtained, and I well knew what 
" going through " such a stack of papers signified. No ; one 
of the chief differences between my method and that of others 
in gathering and arranging facts for history, was, in so far as 
possible, to have all my material together, within instant and 
constant reach, so that I could place before me on my table 
the information lodged in the British Museum beside that 
contained in the archives of Mexico, and compare both with 
what Spain and California could yield, and not be obliged in 
the midst of my investigations to go from one library to 
another note-taking. 

And under this method, so far as my daily and hourly 
necessities were concerned, this immense mass of information 
might almost as well be in Nova Scotia as in a public office. 
To be of use to me it must be in my library. This was the 
basis on which my work was laid out, and only by adhering 
to this plan could it be accomplished. 

But how get it there ? The government would not lend 
it to me, though our benign " uncle " has committed more 
foolish acts. There was but one way, the way pursued in 
smaller operations — copy it. But what did that mean, to 
' copy it ^ ? The day in government offices is short ; a copy- 
ist might return from twenty to forty folios per diem; this, 
averaged, would amount to perhaps three volumes a year, 



SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES. 253 

which would be a hundred years' work for one person ; and 
this merely to transfer the material to my library, where an- 
other century of work would be required before it attained 
the proper form as condensed and classified material for his- 
tory. 

Well, then, if the task would occupy one person so long, 
put on it ten or twenty — this is the way my demon talked 
to me. But the surveyor's office would not accommodate so 
many. Not to dwell upon the subject, however, the matter 
was thus accomplished : A room was rented near the sur- 
veyor-general's office, to which Mr. H. G. Rollins, then in 
charge, had kindly granted permission to have the bound 
volumes taken as required by the copyists. Tables and chairs 
were then purchased, and the needed writing-materials sup- 
plied. Then by a system of condensation and epitomizing, 
now so thoroughly understood that no time or labor need be 
lost, under the efficient direction of Mr. Savage, one of my 
most valued assistants, fifteen Spaniards were able in one year 
to transfer from these archives to the library all that was 
necessary for my purpose. This transfer was not made in 
the form of notes ; the work was an abridgment of the archives, 
which would be of immense public value in case of loss by 
fire of the original documents. The title of every paper was 
given; the more important documents were copied in full, 
while the others were given in substance only. The work 
was begun the 15th of May, 1876. The expense was about 
eighteen thousand dollars ; and when in the form of bound 
volumes these archives stood on the shelves of the library, we 
were just ready to begin extracting historical notes from them 
in the usual way. ' 

This transcribing of the archives in the United States sur- 
veyor-general's office was the greatest single effort of the 
kind ever made by me. But there were many lesser labors 
in the same direction, both before and afterward; promi- 
nent among these was the epitomizing of the archiepiscopal 
archives. 



254 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Learning from Doctor Taylor, of Santa Barbara, that he 
had presented the Most Reverend Joseph S. Alemany, Cath- 
ohc archbishop of San Francisco, with a quantity of valuable 
papers, I applied to the latter for permission to copy them. 
He did not feel at liberty to let the documents pass out of 
his possession. " I shall be most happy, however," he writes 
me, "to afford every facility to any gentleman you may 
choose to send to my humble house to copy from any papers 
any pieces which may suit your work, taking it for granted 
that in your kindness you will let me see before publication 
what is written on religious matters, lest unintentionally some- 
thing might be stated inaccurately, which no doubt you 
would rectify." It is needless to say that neither to the 
archbishop, nor to any person, living or dead, did I ever 
grant permission to revise or change my writings. It was 
my great consolation and chief support throughout my long 
and arduous career, that I was absolutely free, that I be- 
longed to no sect or party to which I must render account 
for any expression, or to whose traditions my opinions must 
bow. Sooner than so hamper myself, I would have con- 
signed my library and my labors to perdition. 

It appeared to me a kind of compact, this insinuation of 
the archbishop, that if he granted me permission to copy 
documents which were the property of the church, they 
should not be used in evidence against the church. Now 
with the church I have not at any time had controversy. 
Theology was not my theme. I never could treat of the- 
ology as it is done ordinarily in pulpits, walled about by 
dogmas, and be compelled to utter other men's beliefs whether 
they were my own or not. I should have no pleasure in 
speaking or writing thus ; nor is there any power on earth 
which would compel me to it. But all this did not lessen 
my obligation to the good archbishop, who was ever most 
kind and liberal toward me, and whose kindness and liberal- 
ity I trust I have not abused. 

The documents in question formed five books, bound into 
several more volumes. They consisted mostly of correspon- 



SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES. 255 

dence by the missionaries of upper and lower California 
among themselves, or with the authorities, both civil and 
military, in Mexico or the Californias, or from their college 
of San Fernando; and also of statistical data on the mis- 
sions, a large portion of the letters and statistics being of 
great historical importance. 

Finally, the condition was withdrawn, and Mr. Savage with 
three copyists performed this labor in about a month. 

While the work of abstracting was going on, the men 
received occasional visits from attaches of the ecclesiastical 
offices in the mansion, which at first gave rise to a suspicion 
in the mind of Mr. Savage that he was watched. But nothing 
occurred to make his task disagreeable. The archbishop 
occasionally entered the room for some document from his 
desk, and ever had a kind word for those who occupied it. 
The result of this work, which was concluded early in May, 
1876, just before beginning on the United States surveyor- 
general's archives, may be seen in the Bancroft Library, in 
three books, entitled Archivo del Arzohispado — Cartas de los 
Misioneros de California^ i. ii. iii.^ iii.^ iv.i iv.^ v. 

Writing of California material for history in the public 
journals of August, 1877, Mr. Oak observes: "First in im- 
portance among the sources of information are the public 
archives, preserved in the different offices of nation, state, 
county, and city, at San Francisco, Sacramento, San Jose, 
Salinas, Los Angeles, San Diego, and to a slight extent in 
other towns. These constitute something over 500 bulky 
tomes, besides loose papers, in the aggregate not less than 
300,000 documents. Of the nature of these manuscripts it 
is impossible within present Kmits to say more than that they 
are the original orders, correspondence, and act-records of the 
authorities — secular and ecclesiastical, national, provincial, 
departmental, territorial, and municipal — during the succes- 
sive rule, imxperial and republican, of Spain, Mexico, and the 
United States, from 1768 to 1850. After the latter date 
there is little in the archives of historic value which has not 
found its way into print. A small part of these papers are 



256 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

arranged by systems which vary from tolerable to very bad ; 
the greater part being thrown together with a sublime disre- 
gard to both subject and chronology. Of their value there 
is no need to speak, since it is apparent that Californian his- 
tory cannot be written without their aid. They are, however, 
practically inaccessible to writers. In land-commission times 
the lawyers sought diligently for information of a certain class, 
and left many guiding references, which the student may find, 
if patient and long-lived, in countless legal briefs and judicial 
decisions. The keepers of the archives, besides aiding the le- 
gal fraternity, have from time to time unearthed for the benefit 
of the public certain documentary curiosities ; yet the archives 
as a whole remain an unexplored and, by ordinary methods, 
unexplorable waste. Mr. Bancroft has not attempted, by 
needle-in-the-haymow methods, to search the archives for 
data on particular points ; but by employing a large auxiliary 
force he has substantially transferred their contents to the 
library. Every single paper of all the 300,000, whatever its 
nature or value, has been read — deciphered would in many 
cases be a better term ; important papers have been copied ; 
less important documents have been stripped of their Spanish 
verbiage, the substance being retained, while routine commu- 
nications of no apparent value have been dismissed with a 
mere mention of their nature and date. 

" Hardly less important, though much less bulky than the 
secular records above referred to, are the records of the friars 
in the mission archives. At most of these establishments — 
wrecks of former Franciscan prosperity — there remain in 
care of the parish priests only the quaint old leather-bound 
records of births, marriages, deaths, etc. At some of the 
ex-missions even these records have disappeared, having 
been destroyed or passed into private hands. It was com- 
mon opinion that the papers of the missionary padres had 
been destroyed, or sent to Mexico and Spain. Another the- 
ory was that of men who mysteriously hinted at immense de- 
posits of docume7itos at the old missions, jealously guarded 
from secular eyes and hands. 



SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES. 257 

" Both views are absurdly exaggerated. The mission ar- 
chives were never very bulky, and are still comparatively com- 
plete. The largest collections are in the possession of the 
Franciscan order, and of the archbishop of California. 
Other small collections exist at different places, and not a 
few papers have passed into private keeping. The archives 
of Spain and Mexico must be ransacked, but the documents 
thus brought to light can neither be so many nor so impor- 
tant as has popularly been imagined. 

" Not all the records of early California, by any means, are 
to be found in the public offices. Even official documents 
were widely scattered during the American conquest or be- 
fore ; the new officials collected and preserved all they could 
gain possession of, but many were left in private hands, and 
have remained there. The private correspondence of prom- 
inent men on public events is, moreover, quite as valuable a 
source of information as their official communications. Mr. 
Bancroft has made an earnest effort to gather, preserve, and 
utilize these private and family archives. There were many 
obstacles to be overcome ; Califofnians, not always without 
reason, were distrustful of Gringo schemes ; old papeles^ that 
had so long furnished m^aterial for cigaritos^ suddenly acquired 
a great pecuniary value ; interested persons, in some cases by 
misrepresentation, induced well disposed natives to act against 
their inclinations and interests. Yet efforts in this direction 
have not been wasted, since they have already produced 
about seventy-five volumes, containing at least twenty thou- 
sand documents, a very large proportion of which are impor- 
tant and unique. 

" I have not included in the preceding class some fifty vol- 
umes of old military and commercial records, which are by 
no means devoid of interest and value, though of such a na- 
ture that it would be hardly fair to add them by the page, 
without explanation, to the above mentioned documents. It 
must not be understood that these contributed collections of 
original papers are exclusively Spanish; on the contrary, 
many of the volumes relate to the conquest, or to the period 
17 



258 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

immediately preceding or following, and bear the names of 
pioneers in whose veins flows no drop of Latin blood — for 
instance, the official and private correspondence of Thomas 
O. Larkin, in twelve thick volumes. 

" CaUfomia is a new country ; her annals date back but 
little more than a century ; most of her sister states are still 
younger ; therefore personal reminiscences of men and women 
yet living form an element by no means to be disregarded by 
the historian. While I am writing there are to be found — 
though year by year death is reducing their number — men 
of good intelligence and memory who have seen California 
pass from Spain to Mexico, and from Mexico to the United 
States. Many of this class will leave manuscript histories 
which will be found only in the Bancroft Library. 

" The personal memoirs of pioneers not native to the soil 
are not regarded as in any respect less desirable than those 
of hijos del pais ^ although their acts and the events of their 
time are much more fully recorded in print. Hundreds of 
pioneer sketches are to be found in book and pamphlet, and 
especially in the newspaper; yet great efforts are made to 
obtain original statements. Some hold back because it is 
difficult to convince them that the history of California is 
being written on a scale which will make their personal 
knowledge and experience available and valuable. Others 
exhibit an indolence and indifference in the matter impossible 
to overcome." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 

Every man must work according to his own method. — Agassiz, 

SOUTHERN California was rightly regarded as the deposi- 
tory of the richest historic material north of Mexico. And 
the reason was obvious : In settlement and civilization that 
region had the start of Oregon by a half century and more ; 
there were old men there, and family and public archives. 
The chief historic adventure in that quarter was when, with 
Mr. Oak and my daughter Kate, early in 1874 I took the 
steamer for San Diego and passed several months in collect- 
ing material in the south. 

It was during this journey south that Benjamin Hayes, 
formerly district judge at Los Angeles, later a resident of 
San Diego, and for twenty-five years an enthusiastic collector 
and preserver of historic data, not only placed me in pos- 
session of all his collection, but gave me his heart with it, 
and continued to interest himself in my work as if it were 
his own, and to add to his collection while in my possession 
as if it was still in his. This was fortunate, for I saw much 
work to be done at Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, and else- 
where, and I hardly knew how to perform it. 

For the first quarter-century of this country's history under 
American rule, beginning with a journal kept w^hile crossing 
the continent in 1849, ^^ j^^ge had been a diligent collector 
of documents touching the history of southern California; and 
his collection of manuscripts, and especially of scraps from 
books and early newspapers, systematically arranged, and ac- 
companied frequently by manuscript notes of his own making, 
was very extensive. It embraced among the manuscript por- 

259 



26o LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

tion a copy of the mission book of San Diego ; a copy of 
an autograph manuscript of Father Junipero Serr'a, giving a 
history of the missions up to 1775 ; a similar manuscript his- 
tory by Father Lasuen of the mission up to 1784; copies of 
all the more important documents of the pueblo archives from 
1829; a complete index made by himself in 1856 of all the 
early archives ; manuscript accounts of Judge Hayes' own 
travels in various parts of the southern country ; reports of 
evidence in important law cases, illustrating history, and many 
other like papers. -There were some fifty or sixty scrap-books, 
besides bundles of assorted and unassorted scraps, all stowed 
in trunks, cupboards, and standing on book-shelves. The 
collection was formed with a view of writing a history of 
southern California, but by this time the purpose on the part 
of Judge Hayes was well-nigh impracticable by reason of age 
and ill-health. 

The pueblo archives which have been preserved do not 
extend back further than 1829. They consist of more or less 
complete records of the proceedings of military comman- 
dantes^ alcaldeSy ayimta7?iienfos, prefedos^ and jueces de paz^ 
together with correspondence between the several town offi- 
cials, between the officials of this and other towns, and cor- 
respondence with the home government of Spain or Mexico, 
being the originals of letters received and copies of those 
sent. They include some flaming proclamations by Califor- 
nian governors, and interesting correspondence relative to the 
times when American encroachments had begun. D ocuments 
referring to the mission are few and brief, and consist of cor- 
respondence between the secular and ecclesiastical authorities 
respecting the capture of escaped native converts. There are 
yet preserved, however, documents relating to the missions 
while in the hands of administrators subsequent to their secu- 
larization. There are several interesting reports of civil and 
criminal trials, illustrating the system of jurisprudence during 
the early times. 

These papers were preserved in the county archives, in the 
clerk's office, in bundles, as classified by Judge Hayes. 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 261 

Copies of all these documents in any wise important for his- 
torical purposes formed part of Judge Hayes' collection. 

Every mission, besides its books of accounts, its papers 
filed in packages, and any historical or statistical records 
which the priests might choose to write, kept what were 
called the mission books, consisting of records of conversions, 
marriages, baptisms, confirmations, and burials. By a revolt 
of the natives in 1775 ^^^ Diego mission, with all its records, 
was destroyed. In opening new mission books, with his 
own hands Father Junipero Serra wrote on the first pages of 
one of them a historical sketch of the mission from 1769, the 
date of its establishment, to 1775, the date of its destruction. 
He also restored, so far as possible from memory, the list of 
marriages and deaths. The mission book thus prefaced by 
the president is preserved by the curate at San Diego. 

It was the 23d of February that this important transfer or 
rather purchase was consummated, for of course I insisted 
on paying the judge for his collection. San Diego possessed 
few further attractions for me in the line of literary acquisi- 
tions ; that is to say, this collection, with so important a man 
as Judge Hayes enlisted in my behalf, was an accomplish- 
ment which would amply reward me for the time and money 
expended in the entire excursion should nothing more come 
of it. For this collection was by far the most important in 
the state outside of my own ; and this, added to mine, would 
forever place my Hbrary beyond competition so far as origi- 
nal California material was concerned. The books, packages, 
list of copies of the county archives, and manuscripts, as we 
packed them for shipment, numbered three hundred and sev- 
enty-seven; though from number little idea can be formed 
of value; for example, a volume labelled Private Hours ^ con- 
sisting chiefly of manuscripts containing Judge Hayes' notes 
of travel over the state at different times, written by one 
thoroughly familiar with public and private matters, by one 
who saw far into men and afiairs, and who at the time him- 
self contemplated history- writing, might be worth a hundred 
other volumes. 



262 , LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Of all the mission archives none were of more importance 
than those of San Diego, this being the initial point of early 
Alta California observation. Besides historical proclivities, 
Judge Hayes loved science. He had taken meteorological 
observations since 1850, and took an interest in the botany 
of the country. In all these things he not only collected and 
arranged, but he digested and wrote. 

During these days at San Diego I visited and examined 
everything of possible historic interest. I wandered about 
the hills overlooking the numerous town sites, crossed to 
False bay, entered the cemetery, and copied the inscriptions 
on the stones that marked the resting-place of the more 
honored dead. In company with Mr. Oak I called at the 
county clerk's office to see what documents were there. No 
one seemed to know anything about them. Such as were 
there were scattered loosely in boxes and drawers, some at 
New Town and some at Old Town. When we learned in 
what sad confusion they were we were all the more thank- 
ful we had copies of them. Judge Hayes began copying 
these archives in 1856. 

Early one morning we walked over to Old Town to visit 
Father Ubach, the parish priest, with whom we had an 
appointment. I was shown the mission books, consisting of 
the Book of Baptisms, in four volumes, the first one extend- 
ing down to 1822, and the others to date. The Book of Mar- 
riages . was in one volume and complete to date. Three 
volumes comprise the Book of Deaths, and one the Book of 
Confirmations. Aside from the sketch by Junipero Serra, a 
copy of which was in the Hayes collection, the volumes were 
of little historic value. Father Ubach informed us of a man- 
uscript Indian vocabulary preserved at the mission of San 
Juan Bautista ; also a manuscript of his own on the natives 
of his parish, of which there were then twelve hundred. He 
kindly gave us letters to the padres at San Juan Capistrano 
and San Juan Bautista. 

Departing from San Diego, we called at the missions and saw 
all the early residents possible, notably Cave J. Coutts and John 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 263 

Foster, at their respective ranchos near San Luis Rey, from 
whom we received encouragement and valuable information. 

On reaching Los Angeles, had I been there at the coming 
of the Americans I might have obtained documents by the 
bale, and freighted a vessel with them. Had I even been there 
ten years before I might have secured no inconsiderable quan- 
tity ; but during this time many heads of old families had 
died, and their papers, with the long accumulations of rub- 
bish, had been burned. 

Most of this was fiction or exaggeration. At the time of 
the secularization there had accumulated at the several mis- 
sions the materials from which might have been sifted not 
only their complete history, but thousands of interesting inci- 
dents illustrative of that peculiar phase of society. These 
once scattered and destroyed, there never was any consider- 
able quantity elsewhere. Old Californian families were not 
as a rule sufficiently inteUigent to write or receive many im- 
portant historical documents, or to discriminate and preserve 
writings valuable as historical evidence. 

Undoubtedly at the death of a paterfamilias, in some 
instances, the survivors used the papers he had preserved in 
the kindling of fires, in the wrapping of articles sent away, or 
in the making of cigarettes ; but that during the century of 
Spanish occupation in California much historical material 
had accumulated anywhere except in government offices and 
at the missions I do not believe. And furthermore, wherever 
it had so happened that a few family papers had been pre- 
served, upon any manifestation of interest in or effort to 
obtain possession of them, their quantity and importance 
were greatly magnified. . In such cases three documents filled 
• a trunk, and a package a foot square was enlarged by rumor 
to the size of a sea chest. 

Not far from the Pico house, in a long low adobe whose 
front door opened from a back piazza, dwelt the fair widow 
to whom Colonel Coutts had given me a letter. 

Calling on her one evening we presented our letter, which 
was to make our path to the papers easy. Ah ! the manu- 



264 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

script of her father ? It was her mother, Mrs. Bandini, to 
whom we should speak: all the documents of Don Juan 
belonged to her. 

Mrs. Bandini asked if I needed them soon. Yes ; I always 
needed such things immediately. She could not possibly touch 
the trunk until the return of her son-in-law, Charles R. John- 
son, who was then at San Diego. He would not return for a 
fortnight, and I could not wait. The old lady would not 
move without him, and there I was obliged to leave it. 

It was necessary I should have that material. Bandini 
was a prominent and important citizen of southern California, 
one of the few who united abihty and patriotism sufficient to 
Avrite history. I sav/ by this time that I should have more 
material on northern than on southern California; that is to 
say, my northern authorities would preponderate. I should 
have at my command, as things were then going, more nar- 
ratives and individual histories written from a northern than 
from a southern standpoint. And this was worthy of serious 
consideration. For a long time the north and the south were 
in a state of semi-antagonism, and their respective statements 
would read very differently. It was only by having several 
accounts, written by persons belonging to either side, that 
anything like the truth could be ascertained. 

Obviously it would be very much as the son-in-law should 
say. I was not acquainted with Johnson personally, but by 
inquiry I ascertained the names of those who had influence 
with him, and these next day I did not fail to see. There 
was then in Los Angeles, Alfred Robinson, a resident of San 
Francisco, and an author. He was intimate at the Bandini 
mansion, and might assist me. I spoke with him upon the 
subject. I likewise saw Judge Sepulveda, Governor Downey, 
Major Truman, and others, who cordially promised their influ- 
ence in my behalf. Thus for the present I was obliged to 
leave it. On my return to San Francisco I continued my 
efforts. I was determined never to let the matter die. I 
appealed again to Colonel Coutts, and to several Californians 
of influence in various parts of the State. The result was that 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 265 

about six months after my first attempt I succeeded in plac- 
ing the valuable documents of General Bandini, together with 
his manuscript history of California, upon the shelves of my 
library, there to remain. At the suggestion of Mr. Robinson, 
who brought the papers up from Los Angeles, I sent Mrs. 
Bandini a check; but she returned it to me, saying that she 
did not want money for the material. 

Pio Pico, ci-deva7it governor of California and a resident 
of Los Angeles, was not in the city at the time. Subse- 
quently I obtained from him a history of such affairs as came 
within his knowledge, of which I shall speak again hereafter. 
Olvera professed to have some documents ; professed to be 
writing a history of California; had long and earnestly sought 
to obtain possession of Bandini's papers, and laughed at our 
efforts in a direction where he had so often failed. During 
the short conversation wx had wdth Andres Pico, he informed 
us, as Father Ubach had said, that he was the commissioner 
appointed in early days to take charge of the mission records, 
and consequently at one time had many of them in his pos- 
session, including those of San Luis Rey ; but most of them 
had been scattered and stolen, and now he had only those at 
San Fernando, which were a small portion of those once in 
his possession. 

In Los Angeles at this time were many old friends and 
newly-made genial acquaintances, who rendered me every 
attention. Tuesday, the 3d of March, accompanied by a 
pleasant party, I was driven out to San Gabriel mission, 
some seven miles east of Los Angeles. Awaking the resi- 
dent priests, Philip Farrel and Joaquin Bot by name, we 
obtained a sight of the mission books. Originally bound in 
flexible cow-hide, one cover with a flap like a pocket-book 
and the other without, they were now in a torn condition. I 
copied the title-page of the Libro de Co7ifirmaciones^ in two 
volumes, 1771-1874, which was signed, as most of the mis- 
sion books were, Fr Junipero Serra, Presid^. In this work 
were several notes embodying the church regulations of the 
sacrament of confirmation, the notes being usually in Span- 



266 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ish, with church rules in Latin. The other books preserved 
at San Gabriel mission were Mairimonios^ two volumes, 1774- 
1855, and 1858-74, the first entry being April 19, 1774, and 
signed by Jumpero Serra. There is but one entry in this 
book signed by the president. The Entierros and Baiitis- 
mos were also there, the latter in five volumes, the first entry 
being the 17th of March, 1796, and signed Miguel Sanches. 

Returning to town by way of the celebrated Rose and 
Johnson places, we spent the remainder of the day in visits. 
An important man was J. J. Warner, who agreed to write. 
To make the promise more real, I purchased a blank-book, 
and writing on the first page Reminiscences of J, J, Warner^ 
I took it with a box of cigars to his office, and received his 
solemn assurances. By close attention to the matter, I man- 
. aged to get the book half filled with original material within 
three years, which, considering the almost universal failure 
of my efforts of that character, I regarded as something won- 
derful. Judge Sepulveda and R. M. Widney promised to 
write, and I am glad to say both these gentlemen were as 
good as their word ; and further than this, to both of them 
I am under many other obligations for kind assistance in 
procuring historical material in the vicinity of Los Angeles. 
Colonel Howard, not the illustrious Volney E. of Vigilance 
Committee fame, manifested the kindest interest in our 
efforts, thought he might bring some influence to bear on 
Mrs. Bandini, and introduced us at the bishops' residence, 
but unfortunately the bishops, Amat and Mora, were both 
absent. I do not know that they would have been of any 
assistance to us; on the contrary, they might have pre- 
vented my getting the Bandini papers. Assuredly the 
church was not disposed to gather mission or other docu- 
ments for my library ; whatever may have been its course 
formerly, of that kind of substance to-day it keeps all and 
gathers all it can. 

The mission books of San Fernando preserved in the pos- 
session of the Pico family were found to be as follows : Matri- 
monios, one volume, 1 797-1847, first entry October 8, 1797, 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 267 

signed Francisco Dumet; Bautismos^ one volume, 1798-185 2, 
first entry April 28, 1798, signed Francisco Dumet; Libro de 
Patejites y de Ynve7itario perteneciente d la Mision de 6*'' Fer- 
7iando Rey en la Nueva California ano de 1806, In my hasty 
examination of this book it seemed to me to contain infor- 
mation of sufficient value to warrant my sending thither 
Mr. Foster to copy it. In like manner another important 
work, said by Don Romulo to be among his father's papers, 
but which he could not at the moment lay his hands on, 
should be looked after. Its title he thought to be some- 
thing as follows: La Fimdacion de la Mision de San Fer- 
nando Rey^ por el Padre Francisco Dianet. It was said to 
contain a full description of the state of the country at the 
time when the mission was first estabhshed. Foster failing, 
nothing was accomplished toward transferring this infor- 
mation to the library until the visit of Mr. Savage to Los 
Angeles, nearly four years later. 

At San Buenaventura we encountered Bishop Amat and 
Father Comapala. The latter was a good fellow enough, but j ust 
now in an exceeding flutter. He would do anything he could 
for us, but the mission books contained nothing, absolutely 
nothing ; he and his were at my disposal, but all was nothing. 
When pressed by us for a sight of this nothing, there was the 
same nervous response. Nevertheless, we tortured him until 
the books were produced, fat and jolly black-eyed Bishop 
Amat meanwhile smiling approvingly. 

Comapala promised to write his experiences for me, having 
come to the country in 1850. He said we should by all 
means see Ramon Valdes, an ancient of San Buenaventura. 
Likewise he gave me a letter to Jose de Amaz, another old 
resident, and straightway we hastened to find these walking 
histories and to wring them out upon our pages. But before 
leaving. Bishop Amat had assured us that his library, which 
we had not been able to see at Los Angeles on account of 
his absence, contained nothing relating to our subject save 
Palou's Hfe of Junipero Serra. He had made some researches 
himself among the missions for historical matter, but without 



268 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

success. He expressed the opinion that most of the mis- 
sion archives were sent to the college of Sail Fernando in 
Mexico, but said he had seen documents on the subject in the 
royal archives of Seville, in Spain. The bishop also kindly 
gave me a letter to the padre at San Antonio, the oldest of 
the Califomian padres. The missions farther north, accord- 
ing to Bishop Amat, were in a miserable state, the building 
at Santa Ines having been used for the storage of hay, 
and several times fired by malicious persons. At San Carlos 
mission the padre who had attempted to reside there was 
driven away several years previous by threats of shooting. 

Mounting the stage at four o'clock p. m. the day after our 
arrival, we reached Santa Barbara at half-past eight. The 
hotels were crowded, but the stage agent, unknown to me, 
had kindly engaged rooms for us, so that we were soon 
made quite comfortable. The next day being Sunday, we 
attended church, rested, and wrote up our journals. 

A day or two afterward I called at the city hall to look 
after the county archives, but neither the clerk nor the re- 
corder knew of the existence of anything of the kind save 
the copies of a f^w pueblo land-titles. From Mr. Hughes, 
however, an attorney long friendly to our business, I learned 
that some years ago the archives were taken to San Fran- 
cisco, where those of a general nature were retained by the 
United States surveyor-general, and the rest returned and 
placed in a tea-chest for safe-keeping. At the next change 
of county officers the chest with its contents disappeared, no 
one knew whither. 

Our next interview was with the parish priest. Padre Jaime 
Vila, probably the politest man in California. All the padres 
were polite, but Father Jaime overflowed with politeness. 
As he showed us the mission books there was a refreshing 
absence of the trepidation common with other padres which 
manifested itself as soon as the books were produced and 
continued until they were hidden again, meanwhile persist- 
ently assuring us that their contents were of no importance, 
and being evidently much averse to our taking notes from 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 269 

them. ' Father Jaime, Hke a sensible man, seemed pleased to 
show his books, and took pains to explain the contents of 
each, evidently fearing in the operation neither the thunder- 
bolts of the Almighty nor the machinations of Satan. We 
found here four volumes oi Bautismos^ 1 782-1 874, the first 
entry being signed Pedro Benito Cambon. So far as could 
be ascertained by a hasty examination the second volume 
contained the baptisms of aboriginals only. Father Jaime 
stated that separate lists were kept up to a certain date, and 
afterward all were entered in one book. The total number 
of entries in the regular book was 3591, and in the Indian 
book 4771. The Entierros was in three volumes, the title 
of volume i. being by Junipero Serra. The first entry, De- 
cember 22, 1782, was signed Vicente de Santa Maria. Be- 
sides which were two volumes of Mahdmonios ; two volumes 
of Confirmaciones ; one volume of lists, or invoices of articles 
furnished the mission of San Buenaventura from i79itoi8io, 
with prices \ two volumes of alphabetical lists of persons in 
the mission of Santa Barbara, with dates of marriage, con- 
firmation, etc., with some miscellaneous tables, including 
lists of persons transferred to and from the mission ; and one 
volume entitled Libro en que se apimta la Ropa que se dis- 
tribuye a los Indios de esta Mision de San Buenaventura^ 
1806-16. 

These books were kept at Father Jaime's residence, which 
was attached to the parish church in town. Thence we pro- 
ceeded to the mission, about one mile north-east of the town, 
on the side hill overlooking the Santa Barbara plain. This 
mission, unlike any we had hitherto seen, was kept in perfect 
repair. It was occupied as a Franciscan college and mon- 
astery, and the monks in gray robes and shaven crowns 
called to mind those of the south of Europe in the olden time. 
Of the college. Father O'Keefe, a determined, man-of-the- 
world-looking Irish priest, was president. One of the few 
remaining of the early padres was the aged Father Gonzalez. 
Some time since he resigned his position as guardian, and 
was now partially paralyzed. He nevertheless recognized us 



270 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and our mission; as we were presented to him he insisted 
upon rising and uncovering his head, and directed that every 
facility be afforded us. 

But in the present guardian of the Franciscan college, 
Friar Jose Maria Romo, more than in any of the clergy con- 
nected with the mission, I found my ideal of a monk. He 
was arrayed in a long gray gown, tied with a cord round the 
waist, and beads and cross pendent. His hair was neatly 
cut, and the crown of the head shaven. His eye was keen 
and kindly, his features broadly intelligent, and in his air and 
bearing was a manliness rarely found associated with religious, 
learning. He was one who could be true at once to himself 
and to his faith, neither sacrificing his humanity to his piety nor 
one jot of piety to any earthly passion. At this time Father 
Romo had not been long from Rome. Italian, French, and 
Spanish he spoke fluently, but not English. He was a man 
of weighty and learned presence, yet modest withal and affa- 
ble. As successor to Father Gonzalez he was a happy choice. 

We found the archives of Santa Barbara mission both 
bulky and important. They consisted of correspondence of 
the padres, statistics of the several missions, reports, accounts, 
inventories, and the like, including some documents of the 
pueblo and presidio, as well as of the mission. All these 
were in the form of folded papers, neatly filed in packages, 
and labeled with more or less distinctness. They were kept 
in a cupboard consisting of an aperture about two feet square 
sunk into a partition wall to the depth of about one foot, and 
covered with plain folding doors. As we had never before 
heard of this deposit, and as it was apparently not known by 
any one beyond the mission precincts, v/e regarded it a rare 
discovery, the first real literary bonanza we had unearthed 
during our excursion. 

The archives of this mission seemed to have escaped the 
fate of all the rest. The mission was never wholly abandoned 
at any time; it was never rifled of its books and papers, 
either by priests returning to Mexico or by the United States 
government. Father Gonzalez assured me that this cupboard 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 27 1 

had never been disturbed, that it was then just as it had been 
left by the early fathers ; and such to every appearance was 
the fact. That Doctor Taylor with his indefatigable industry 
should have allowed to escape him this rich treasure can only 
be accounted for upon the supposition that its existence was 
kept secret. 

Besides the folded papers mentioned, there VN^ere the follow- 
ing in the form of manuscript books, pamphlets, and printed 
government regulations with official signatures : Diario de la 
caininaia que hizo el padre prefecto Pay eras en union del padre 
Sanchez por la sierra desde San Diego hasia San Gabriel 182 1, 
Libra que coniie7ie los Apimtes de siembras, cosechas y demas 
asimtos propios de U7ia Mision, Catecismo Politico arreglado a 
la constitucion de la monarquia Espanola — for the Califomian 
aborigines. Quaderno de estados e Ynformes de estas misiones 
de la Alia California del afio de 1822, Descripcion de la Ope- 
racioji Cesdrea — apparently an extract copied from some 
medical work. Libra de las Siejnbras y Cosechas de la Mision 
de Santa Barbara que comienza desde el ano de 1808 — mostly 
blank. A book of sermons written and preached by the padres 
in California, with an index. Libra de Quentas qice estcc Mi- 
sion de Santa Barbara iiene co7i la habilitacion de este presidio 
del mismo nonibre y con otros varios particulares para este afio 
de 17^2. A proclamation by Governor Alvarado. Three 
criminal trials of persons for polygamy. Grammars and vo- 
cabularies of the aborigines of different missions, in two vol- 
umes, extensive and important, but very difficult to read. 
Accounts of the different missions, in three volumes, 181 6 
and subsequently. Lnforme de la Mision de Santa Barbara 
sita, etc., asi de lo e spiritual como de lo te?npo?^al y comprehende 
desde el 4de Diciembre del ano de 1786, que fue el de la fun- 
dacion, hasta el dia ji de Diciembre de 1787, Factura de tres 
iercios de gejieros, etc. Ordenes — of the bishops of Sonora 
and California; important. Testimonio de la Real Jtmta 
sobi'e el nuevo reglamento e instruccio7i for77tada por Don Josef 
de Echeveste para la pe7ii7isula de Calif or7iia y Dept, de San 
Bias, 1 77 J, Qiiader7io e7i que se lleva la cue7ita de la cera, 



272 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

candeleros^ y oU^as cosas que se han conprado para la Iglesia 
de Santa Barbara desde el ano de iS^o — to 1856. 

To examine these documents at any length at this time 
was impracticable. I asked permission to take the contents 
of the cupboard to San Francisco to copy, but Father Romo 
assured me it was impossible, that he could not assume the 
responsibility of letting them go beyond the mission walls. 
I offered bonds for the safe return of every paper. " Your 
money could not restore them/' said Father Romo, " in case 
they were lost by fire or water; then I should be censured." 
Permission was freely given me, however, to copy as much 
as I pleased within the mission buildings, where every facility 
would be given me ; of which kind offer I subsequently made 
avail, as will be mentioned hereafter, transferring the contents 
of the cupboard, that is to say, all the valuable part of it, to 
my library by means of copyists. 

At five A. M. the loth of March we left Santa Barbara by 
stage, and were set down at Ballard's about two o'clock. 
Early next morning in a farm wagon we drove out to the 
college of Guadalupe, some five miles south-eastward, and 
thence to Santa Ines mission. The books of Purisima mis- 
sion being at Santa Ines, we concluded not to visit the former, 
as there was nothing there specially to be seen. 

The mission library at Santa Ines was the largest we had 
yet seen, but was composed almost exclusively of theological 
works printed in Spain. Besides the regular Purisima mis- 
sion books I saw at Santa Ines a curious old book from 
Purisima, partly printed and partly in manuscript. It was 
an olla podrida of scraps, notes, accounts, etc., with a treatise 
on music. Marking such parts of it as I desired, I engaged 
the priest to make and send me a copy. 

A most uncomfortable night-ride in the rain brought us to 
San Luis Obispo. There, as before, we drew plans of the 
mission buildings, examined the books, took several dicta- 
tions, and proceeded on our. way. As we approached the 
northern end of the line of early ecclesiastical settlement, the 
missions lay some distance away from the stage route, and I 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 273 

concluded to leave those nearest home for another occasion. 
Hence from San Luis Obispo we all returned, reaching San 
Francisco the 15th of March, well pleased with our excur- 
sion. 

In transmitting to me the remainder of his material. Judge 
Hayes proved himself a high-minded and disinterested lover 
of history, ready to give himself, his time, and thoughts to 
the cause. " I wish to finish up my collection," he writes 
me, " so that you may have all the facts in my possession 
that may in any way be useful to you." 

First he completed and forwarded to me the large quarto 
volume of Alta California Missions which I had left with 
him. In a letter dated the 14th of October, 1874, he says: 
" I send by express the two volumes of Indiafi Traits, Mr. 
Luttrell did not come down with the commission sent by the 
secretary of the interior. I have therefore no such use for 
this collection now as I supposed I might have. I have 
been able to add but a few matters to it. Whatever further 
information I may collect must go into another volume. 
Emigra7it Notes now only waits for photographs to be com- 
pleted. The board of supervisors of San Bernardino directed 
a photographer to furnish me with twelve views which I had 
designated. Day before yesterday our photographer took 
for me twenty views around the Old Town, which he will get 
ready immediately." 

Several visits were made by Judge Hayes to Los Angeles 
during the following year, at which times he used his ut- 
most influence to obtain from Olvera and others historical 
information, but without much success. Finally, about the 
beginning of 1876, I engaged Judge Hayes to drop his pro- 
fessional duties for a time, take up his residence at Los 
Angeles, and devote his entire thoughts and energies to se- 
curing for me the historical information which was so rapidly 
fading in that vicinity. 

Being himself executor and legal adviser for several estates, 
he was enabled to secure some material from them. In re- 
gard to the county archives, he examined the entire collection 



274 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

of twelve volumes of original documents which I had seen 
at Los Angeles, and made abstracts, as he had done with the 
San Diego archives, except that, these being more voluminous, 
he employed two copyists to write out in full such documents 
as he designated. Besides an abstract, he made for me a 
complete index of those papers, which I found very useful. 
Thus all that could be valuable to history was taken from 
these archives and transferred to my library, where it was 
preserved in large and strongly bound volumes. It was a 
long and expensive piece of work, but there was no other 
feasible plan which could place me in possession of the ma- 
terial ; and, indeed, I considered myself fortunate in securing 
the services of one so able, experienced, and enthusiastic as 
Judge Hayes. But for him, the expense might easily have 
been doubled, and the work not half so well performed. 

The next most important work to be done in the way of 
obtaining material was to secure copies of the archives of 
Santa Barbara mission. Of the men employed by Judge 
Hayes in my behalf at Los Angeles, Edward F. Murray 
proved to be the best. I endeavored to induce Judge Hayes 
to go to Santa Barbara and make an abstract of the archives 
there, as he had done at San Diego and at Los Angeles. 
But professional duties would not longer be thrust aside ; and, 
besides, his failing health warned him to put his house in 
order for that most unwelcome of visitors, death. 

Mr. Murray was recommended very highly by Judge 
Hayes for the Santa Barbara mission, and as he expressed 
his willingness to go, an engagement was effected, beginning 
about the middle of June, 1876, and which continued with a 
few interruptions to 1878. 

He was a faithful and competent man, and his abstracts 
on the whole gave satisfaction. It was no easy matter for a 
writer in San Francisco to send a stranger to work on a 
distant mass of papers, concerning which neither had much 
knowledge, and have the requisite material properly taken 
out ; but Mr. Murray, besides being a man of quick percep- 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 275 

tion, thorough education, and wide experience, had served 
SO long and so well under the able directorship of Judge 
Hayes that there was really less difficulty than I had antici- 
pated. 

A further most important work in southern California was 
that performed for me by Mr. Thomas Savage, an account 
of which I now proceed to give : 

After a preliminary examination of the county archives 
at San Jose and Salinas, and the papers at the Jesuit college 
and parochial church at Santa Clara, with several copyists, 
notably Senores Pina, Corona, and Gomez, Mr. Savage pro- 
ceeded in March, 1877, to Salinas and began operations in a 
large room which he rented near the office of the recorder, 
Jacob R. Leese, who afforded him every facility. 

Despatching Gomez in search of native Californians from 
whom a narrative of recollections was desired, Mr. Savage 
placed before the others books of records, and directed them 
what and how to abstract. Prominent among those who 
gave in their testimony at this time were Francisco Arce and 
Francisco Rico, the latter detailing the particulars of 1845-6, 
the wars of the revolution, the campaign against Michel- 
torena, and the actions of the Cahfornians against the 
United States forces. Thus passed four weeks, when, the 
work at Salinas being accompHshed, the copyists were sent 
back to San Francisco, and Mr. Savage proceeded to Mon- 
terey. Here were important personages, for instance, Flo- 
rencio Serrano, Estevan de la Torre, Mauricio Gonzalez, 
John Chamberlin, and James Meadows, the last named 
being one of the prisoners sent from California to Mexico in 
1840. Their and other dictations, with a bundle of original 
papers, were the result of four weeks' labor at this place, after 
which Mr. Savage returned to San Francisco. 

A second trip began the 21st of May, when with the same 
copyists Mr. Savage went to San Jose, and after a month's 
labor secured to the library all that was required from the 
pubhc archives, consisting of six volumes of records and 
twenty- five hundred loose documents, every one of which 



276 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Mr. Savage carefully examined for historical data. Among 
those from whom dictations were then taken was Eusebio 
Galindo. From the heirs of the late Antonio Sunol a collec- 
tion of letters by John A. Sutter was obtained. 

Sending the copyists back to San Francisco, Mr. Savage 
proceeded with Gomez to Santa Cruz, where the books and 
loose papers of the mission were placed under contribution, 
and also the pubhc papers, which were mostly of the old 
town of Branciforte. From Father Hawes and Mr. McKin- 
ney, county clerk, Mr. Savage received many favors. Near 
Watson ville lived Jose Amador, son of Pedro Amador, one 
of the soldiers present at the founding of San Diego and 
Monterey, and for many years sergeant in the San Fran- 
cisco presidial company. " I found this man of ninety-six 
years," writes Mr. Savage, " who had at one time been 
wealthy, and after whom Amador county was named, living 
in great poverty under the care of his youngest daughter, 
who is married and has many children. He granted my re- 
quest without asking gratuity, and in six days narrated two 
hundred and forty pages of original information. I used to 
take every day something to the children, and occasionally 
a bottle of Bourbon to warm the old man's heart." The 17th 
of July Mr. Savage was back in San Francisco. 

As the history of California progressed it became evident 
that, notwithstanding the mass of material in hand, namely 
the Hayes collection, mission, government, municipal, and 
private archives, transcripts made by Hayes, Murray, Savage, 
and others, there were gaps which yet more thorough research 
alone would fill ; or rather, from a fuller insight into the sub- 
ject, and the reports of intelligent persons, I was convinced 
that important information remained yet unearthed, and I 
could not rest satisfied without it. There were church records 
to be looked into and utihzed at nearly all the former mis- 
sions between San Diego and San Juan; and moreover, it 
was important to procure the version of old Californians and 
others in the southern counties on the sectional quarrels there 
existing, especially between the years 1831 and 1846, and 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 277 

even appearing during the last struggle of the Califomians 
and Mexicans against United States occupation. Till now, 
though the siirenos and nortcnos were equally represented in 
the contemporary records obtained, yet too much of the 
modern dictated testimony had described those occurrences 
from the northern, or Monterey and Sonoma, points of view. 
Men and women still lived in the south who had taken an 
active part in or had been witnesses of those troubles ; and 
from them more or less unbiassed accounts might be obtained. 
Others possessed knowledge derived from their sires, and old 
documents worth securing from the careless hands which had 
destroyed so many. 

Mr. Savage accordingly, well provided with letters, took 
passage the 6th of October, 1877, on board the steamer 
Se7iator^ which carried him to Santa Monica, whence he pro- 
ceeded to Los Angeles, and was soon at work upon the 
dictation of Pio Pico, formerly governor of California, carry- 
ing on at the same time the examination and copying of the 
papers of Ignacio Coronel and Manuel Requena. To these 
experiences original documents were added, some from the 
estate of Andres Pico ; from J. J. Warner the manuscript 
volume of his RecoUectioiis was obtained. Papers and rem- 
iniscences were further procured from Pedro Carrillo and 
Jose Lugo. To Antonio F. Coronel, Mr. Savage expressed 
the highest obligations ; also to Governor Downey and Judge 
Sepulveda. Bishop Mora, under instructions from Bishop 
Amat, loaned Mr. Savage twelve manuscript books, permitted 
him free access to the episcopal archives, and furnished him 
a letter authorizing all priests within the diocese in charge of 
mission records to permit such extracts from them as he 
might desire. 

To the mission of San Gabriel Mr. Savage proceeded in 
the latter part of November, and found Father Bot most 
obliging. Hereabout dictations were obtained from Benjamin 
D. Wilson, Victoriano Vega, and Amalia Perez, stewardess 
of the mission, and well informed upon mission life, habits 
of the padres, and manners and customs of the Califomians. 



278 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Next came Spadra, and a dictation from old Pablo Vejar, 
famous in military mutinies, for which he had been sent a 
prisoner to Mexico. Escaping thence, he returned, fought 
the Americans at San Pascual, and was taken prisoner ; once 
rich, he was now ashamed to ask Mr. Savage into his cabin. 
Then to Pomona, to see the Englishman, Michael White, who 
came to the coast in 181 7, and settled in Alta California 
in 1828. Thence Mr. Savage returned to San Gabriel. At 
Los Nietos was seen Jose Maria Romero, a Californian of 
ninety; at San Juan Capistrano, the mission books; then 
followed a dictation from John Foster, of Santa Margarita 
rancho, an examination of the mission books at San Luis 
Rey, and more dictations from Juan Avila and Michael 
Kraszewski. At San Diego, Juana Osuna and Jose Maria 
Estudillo furnished information. Fortunately the widow of 
Moreno, government secretary under Pico, was at San Diego, 
where she had brought from lower California a trunk filled 
with the papers of "her late husband, who used to endorse 
even ordinary letters "A mi archivo, apuntes para la his- 
toria." It seems here was another dreaming of history-writing. 
" The papers are indeed interesting in an historical point of 
view," says Mr. Savage, who so ingratiated himself with the 
widow as to gain access to the trunk ; " Moreno had not only 
been secretary in upper California, but had taken part in the 
war against the United States in 1846, and for several years 
was the gefe politico of the region called the northern frontier 
of lower California." Senora Moreno returned to her rancho 
at Guadalupe, leaving her documents in the possession of 
Mr. Savage. 

Narciso Botello was a man of character, and though now 
poor, had held many important positions, and was an active 
participant in public affairs from 1833 to 1847. He was in- 
duced to wait on Mr. Savage at north San Diego and give 
his experiences, which were rich in historical events, manners 
and customs, education,. and judicial processes. 

Throughout the entire expedition Mr. Savage was untiring 
in his efforts, which were not always attended with encourag- 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 279 

ing success. But fortune smiled on him during January of 
1878, though the face of the sun was clouded and the roads 
in bad condition from excessive rains. At the time of his 
death Judge Hayes was deep in two large collections of 
documents which he had shortly before obtained, one from 
Mr. Alexander, son-in-law of Requena, and the other from 
Coronel, the former containing the valuable diary of Mr. 
Melius. All then fell into the hands of the son, Mr. Chaun- 
cey Hayes, who resided at his rancho, five miles from San 
Luis Rey. From him Mr. Savage, now on his homeward 
way, obtained " two cases pretty well crammed with manu- 
scripts and newspaper slips, every one of which contained 
some information on the Californias and on other parts of 
the Pacific coast. They were taken to San Luis Rey under 
a heavy rain, which, however, did no damage. After some 
carpentering, to render the cases secure, I arranged for their 
conveyance to San Diego, thence to be shipped to San Fran- 
cisco." Mr. Savage does not forget the kindness of Judge 
Egan, Doctor Crane, Pablo Pryor, Juan Avila, Father Mut, 
and others. 

Back to Los Angeles, and again en route, armed with a 
letter from the best of our southern friends. Judge Sepiilveda, 
to Ignacio del Valle. A warm welcome, a dictation, and all 
the documents the place afforded, followed a hard ride to the 
famous rancho of Camulos. Besides extracts from the mis- 
sions here obtained were the reminiscences of Jose Arnaz, 
Ramon Valdes, and others. 

The I St of March, at Santa Barbara, Mr. Savage joined 
Mr. Murray, then engaged on the De la Guerra papers, kindly 
loaned him by Mr. Dibblee, administrator of the estate. 
From early morning until far into the night, Sundays and 
other days, Mr. Savage was soon engaged on the mission 
books, public and private documents, and in taking dicta- 
tions from Mrs. Ord, one of the De la Guerra daughters, 
Agustin Janssens, Apolinaria Lorenzana, and Rafael Gon- 
zalez. Small but very valuable collections of papers were 
received from Concepcion Pico, sister of Governor Pico, and 



28o LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Dolores Dominguez, the two ladies being the widows of 
Domingo and Jose Carrillo. Many family archives had here 
by foolish heirs been wilfully burned or used for making 
cigarettes. " The results in Santa Barbara," Mr. Savage 
writes, " from March 2d to April 4th were about four hun- 
dred pages of dictations, over two thousand documents, and 
two hundred pages of manuscript from the mission books. 
Much time was spent in vain search for papers not existing." 
Subsequently Mr. Murray obtained dictations from the Ameri- 
can pioneers of that locality, notably from the old trapper 
Nidever, who came overland to California in 1832. 

The researches of Mr. Savage met with some disappoint- 
ment at San Luis Obispo, though, through the courteousness 
of Father Roussel, the widow Bonilla, Charles Dana, Maria 
Inocente Pico, widow of Miguel Avila, and Jose de Jesus 
Pico, the results were important. These all did much. 
Inocente Garcia also gave one hundred and ten pages, and 
Canuto Boronda and Ignacio Ezquer valuable contributions. 
The very interesting diary of Walter Murray was kindly lent 
by his widow. On a fearfully stormy night, at the risk of his 
life, Mr. Savage, accompanied by Jose de Jesus Pico, visited 
the rancho of Senora de Avila in the interests of history, 
and there received every kindness. 

I have not the space in this chapter to follow Mr. Savage 
further. Many journeys he made for the library, and en- 
countered many experiences; and great were the resulting 
benefits to Califomian history. Though less ostentatious 
than some, his abilities were not surpassed by any. In the 
written narrative given me of his several adventures, which is 
full of interesting incidents and important historical expla- 
nations, the keenest disappointment is manifested over fail- 
ures ; nevertheless his success was gratifying, and can never be 
repeated. During the remainder of this expedition, which 
lasted eight months, ending at San Francisco early in June, 
Mr. Savage secured to the library the collections of Carlos 
Olvera of Chualar, and Rafael Pinto of Watsonville, " con- 



HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH. 281 

taining so much valuable matter," he says, '' that the history 
of California would not have been complete without them." 
Pinto was collector of the port at San Francisco at the time 
of the American occupation ; he also gave his reminiscences. 
Mr. Savage did not cease his efforts until the missions of 
San Rafael, San Jose, and San Francisco were searched, and 
material extracted from the state library at Sacramento. The 
old archives at the offices of the secretary of state and county 
clerk, at Sacramento, were likewise examined, and notes 
taken from the several court records. 



CHAPTER XX. 

HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 

It is undeniable that the exercise of a creative power, that a free cre- 
ative activity, is the highest function of man ; it is proved to be so by 
man's finding in it his true happiness. — Matthew Arnold. 

IN company with Mrs. Bancroft, on the 30th of April, 1878, 
I sailed for Vancouver Island, with the view of returning 
by land. After five days and nights of tempestuous buffet- 
ings, though without special discomfort, we safely landed at 
Esquimau, and drove over to Victoria, three miles distant. 
We found a good hotel, the Driard House, and a gentlemanly 
host, Louis Redon. The day was Sunday, and though old 
ocean yet billowed through our brain and lifted our feet at 
every step, we decided to attend church. 

On setting out from the hotel we met Mr. Edgar Marvin, 
who accompanied us to Christ church, where the bishop pre- 
sided over the cathedral service. Next day Mr. Marvin in- 
troduced me to several persons whom I wished to see ; and 
throughout our entire stay in Victoria he was unceasing in 
his kindness. Mr. T. N. Hibben, an old and esteemed friend, 
together with his highly intelligent wife, were early and fre- 
quent in their attentions. Then there were Sir Matthew B. 
Begbie, Dr. Ash, the Honorable A. C. Elliott, Lady Douglas, 
Mr. and Mrs. Harris, Governor and Mrs. Richards, and a 
host of others. Though he did not affect literature. Sir 
Matthew was a thoroughly good fellow, and no one in British 
Columbia exercised a more beneficial or a greater political 
and social influence ; in fact, I may as well say at the outset 
that nowhere have I ever encountered kinder appreciation 
or more cordial and continued hospitality than here. In- 

282 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 283 

vitations so poured in upon us as seriously to interfere with 
our labors, and greatly to prolong our stay. I found it im- 
possible to decline proffers of good- will so heartily made; 
and no less interest was manifested in furthering the object 
which had taken me there than in hospitable entertainment. 

To examine public archives and private papers, to extract 
such portions as were useful in my work, to record and carry 
back with me the experiences of those who had taken an 
active part in the discovery and occupation of the country — 
these, together with a desire to become historically inspired 
with the spirit of settlement throughout the great northwest, 
constituted the burden of my mission. 

Engaging two assistants, I sat down to work in earnest. 
One of these assistants, Mr. Thomas H. Long, I found a 
valuable man. The other I discharged at the end of a 
week. Afterward I tried two more, both of whom failed. 
The province was in the agonies of a general election, ne- 
cessitated by the dissolution of the assembly by the governor, 
on the ground that the ElHott government, as it was called, 
was not sufficiently strong to carry out its measures. Un- 
fortunately the old Hudson's Bay Company men, whom of 
all others I wished historically to capture, were many of them 
politicians. For the greater part tough, shrewd, clear-headed 
Scotchman, the fur company's ancient servants were now the 
wealthy aristocrats of the province ; and although they loved 
their country well, and were glad to give me every item re- 
specting their early adventures, they loved office also, and 
would by no means neglect self-interest. But I was persistent. 
I was determined never to leave the province until my cra- 
vings for information should be satisfied, and to obtain the 
necessary information at as early a date as possible. 

The governor was absent fishing, and would not return for 
a week. Mr. Elliott, the provincial secretary, was affable, 
but exceedingly occupied in the endeavor to rise again upon 
his political legs. He quickly gave me all printed govern- 
ment matter, but when it came to an examination of the 
archives he manifested no particular haste. His deputy, Mr. 



284 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Thomas Elwyn, offered access to everything in his office, but 
assured me that it contained nothing of value, since all the 
material which could in any wise throw light on history was 
in the house of the governor. None of the archives had been 
removed to Ottawa after confederation with Canada, as I 
had been informed. 

When the governor, Mr. Richards, as the people of this 
province called him, returned, I immediately waited upon 
him and made known my wishes. He was a comparative 
stranger, he said, sent there from Canada; knew little regard- 
ing the documents in the governor's office, and proposed 
that a minute-in-council be passed by the provincial govern- 
ment in order to invest him with the requisite authority to 
open to me the government archives. Addressing a letter to 
Mr. Elliott asking the passage of such a measure, he put me 
off once more. 

Now Mr. Elliott was prime minister, and his associates 
being absent he was the government, and had only to write 
out and enter the order to make it valid. I knew very well, 
and so did they, first, that the governor required no such 
order, and secondly, that Mr. Elliott could write it as easily 
as talk about it. 

After a day or two lost by these evasions, I determined to 
bring the matter to a crisis. These northwestern magnates 
must be awakened to a sense of duty ; they must be induced 
to give me immediate access to the government archives or 
refuse, and the latter course I did not believe they would 
adopt. Meeting Mr. ElUott on the street shortly afterward, 
I said to him : 

" The benighted republics of Central America not only 
throw open their records to the examination of the historian, 
but appoint a commissioner to gather and abstract material. 
It can hardly be possible that any English-speaking govern- 
ment should throw obstruction in the way of laudable his- 
torical effort." 

The minister's apologies were ample, and the order came 
forth directly. But the order did not suit the governor, who 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 285 

returned it and required in its place another, differently 
worded ; and this at last given him he required that his secre- 
tary, the Honorable Mr. Boyle, a most affable, but wholly 
inexperienced, young man, should alone have the making of 
the copies and abstracts, always, of course, at my expense. 

Meanwhile every spare moment was occupied in bringing 
forward the ancients of this region, and in obtaining informa- 
tion from any and all sources. There were many good 
writers, many who had written essays, and even books. To 
instance : Mr. G. M. Sproat, who drew up for me a skeleton 
of British Columbia history, according to his conception of 
it; Mr. J. D. Pemberton, formerly private secretary of Sir 
James Douglas, and author of a work on British Columbia, 
who not only brought me a large package of printed material, 
but gave me some most valuable information in writing, and 
used his influence with Doctor Helmcken, the eccentric son- 
in-law of Sir James, and executor of the Douglas estate, to 
obtain for me the private books and papers in the possession 
of the family. Dr. John Ash likewise wrote for me and gave 
me material, as did Thomas Eiwyn, deputy provincial secre- 
tary, Arthur Wellesley Vowel, and Mr. Elliott. From P. N. 
Compton, Michael Muir, Alexander Allen, James Deans, 
and others, I obtained dictations. But most valuable of 
all were the reminiscences, amounting in some instances 
to manuscript volumes, and constituting histories more or 
less complete, of New Caledonia and the great northwest, 
the recollections of those who had spent their lives within 
this territory, who had occupied important positions of honor 
and trust, and were immediately identified not only with 
the occupation and settlement of the country but with its 
subsequent progress. Among these were A. C. Anderson, 
W. F. Tolmie, Roderick Finlayson, Archibald McKinlay, 
and others, men of mind, able writers some of them, and 
upon whose shoulders, after the records of Sir James Douglas, 
the diaries of chief factors, and the government and Hudson's 
Bay Company's archives, must rest the history of British 
Columbia. 



286 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

James M. Douglas, son of Sir James, whose marriage with 
the daughter of Mr. ERiott we had the pleasure of attending, 
granted me free and willing access to all the family books 
and papers. " Ah! " said everybody, " you should have come 
before Sir James died. He would have rendered you assist- 
ance in value beyond computation." So it is too often with 
these old men ; their experiences and the benefit thereof to 
posterity are prized after they are beyond reach. 
. Lady Douglas was yet alive, and, though a half-breed, 
was a perfect lady. Her daughters were charming ; indeed, 
it were next to impossible for the wife and daughters of 
Sir James Douglas to be other than ladies. Scarcely so 
much could truthfully be said of the sons of some other fur 
magnates. 

The honorable Amor de Cosmos, ;// Smith, the historic 
genius of the place, was absent attending the legislature in 
Canada. He was one of two brothers who conducted the 
Standard newspaper, and dabbled in politics and aspired to 
history- writing. One of these brothers was known as plain 
Smith; the other had had his name changed by the legislature 
of California. It was some time before I could realize that 
the man thus playing a practical joke on his own name was 
not a buffoon. 

Mr. William Charles, at this time director of the Hudson's 
Bay Company's affairs at Victoria, gave me much information, 
and among other things a journal of the founders of Fort 
Langley while journeying from Fort Vancouver and estab- 
lishing a new fort on Fraser river. The record covered a 
period of three years, from 1827 to 1829. Mr. Charles also 
sent to Fort Simpson for the records of that important post, 
and forwarded them to me after my return to San Francisco. 

From George Hills, bishop of Columbia, I obtained copies 
of missionary reports giving much new knowledge of various 
parts. Mr. Stanhope Farwell of the Victoria land office 
gave me a fine collection of maps and charts of that vicinity. 
Through the courtesy of John Robson, paymaster of the 
Canadian Pacific railway survey, Victoria, and William Buck- 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 287 

ingham of the office of the minister of pubhc works, Ottawa, 
the printed reports of the survey were sent me from Canada. 
F. J. Roscoe in Hke manner furnished me with the Canadian 
blue-books, or printed pubUc documents of British America. 
These, together with the blue-books found in the public 
offices at Victoria, and other official and general publications, 
boxed and shipped to San Francisco from that port, formed 
extensive and important additions to my library. 

Mrs. Bancroft came as usual to my assistance, and took 
from one person, a missionary, the Rev. Mn Good, one hun- 
dred and twenty foolscap pages descriptive of the people 
and country round the upper Fraser. In Mr. Anderson's 
narrative, which was especially good, she took special in- 
terest, and during our stay in Victoria she accomplished more 
than any one engaged in the work. Writing in her journal 
of Mr. Good, she says: "His descriptions of scenery and 
wild life are remarkable for vividness and beauty of expres- 
sion. His graphic pictures so fascinated me that I felt no 
weariness and was almost unconscious of effort." 

It was like penetrating regions beyond the world for 
descriptions of scenes acted on the other side of reality, this 
raking up the white-haired remnants of the once powerful 
but now almost extinct organization. There was old John 
Tod, tall, gaunt, calling himself eighty-four, and clear-headed 
and sprightly at that, though his friends insisted he was 
nearer ninety-four. The old fur-factor lived about four 
miles from the city, and regularly every day, in a cap with 
huge ears, and driving a bony bay hitched to a single, high- 
seated, spring wagon, he made his appearance at our hotel, 
and said his say. While speaking he must not be questioned; 
he must not be interrupted. Sitting in an arm-chair, leaning 
on his cane, or walking up and down the room, his deep-set 
eyes blazing with the renewed fire of old-time excitements, 
his thin hair standing in electric attention, he recited with 
rapidity midst furious gesticulations story after story, one 
scene caUing up another, until his present was wet with the 
sweat of the past. 



288 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Archibald McKinlay was another, a really brave and esti- 
mable character, and a man who had filled with honor to 
himself and profit to the Hudson's Bay Company many 
responsible positions, but, while younger than Mr. Tod, he 
was not possessed of so unclouded a memory or so facile a 
tongue. He knew enough, but could not tell it. " If it's 
statisticals ye want I'll give 'em to ye," he would bring out 
every few minutes, " but I'll have nothing to do with person- 
alities." When I hinted to him that history was made by 
persons and not by statistics, he retorted : "Well, I'll write 
something for ye." He had much to say of Peter Skeen 
Ogden, whose half-breed daughter he had married. The first 
evening after our arrival he brought his wife to see us, and 
seemed very proud of her. He was really anxious to com- 
municate his experiences, coming day after day to do so, 
but failing from sheer lack of tongue. He once interrupted 
Mr. Tod, disputing some date, and the old gentleman never 
forgave him. Never after that, while McKinlay was in the 
room, would Mr. Tod open his mouth. 

Doctor W. F. Tolmie, who had been manager of the Puget 
Sound Agricultural Company, and subsequently chief factor at 
Victoria, was of medium height, but so stoutly built as to 
seem short, with a large bald head, broad face and features, 
florid complexion, and small blue eyes, which, through their 
corners and apparently without seeing anything, took in all 
the world. He had been well educated in Europe, was 
clever, cunning, and withal exceedingly Scotch. Tolmie 
knew much, and could tell it; indeed, he would tell 
much, but only what he pleased. Nevertheless I found 
him one of my most profitable teachers in the doings of 
the past ; and when I left Victoria he intrusted me with his 
journal kept while descending the Columbia river in 1833 
and for four years thereafter, which he prized very highly. 

Roderick Finlayson, mayor of Victoria, and founder of the 
fort there, was a magnificent specimen of the old-school 
Scotch gentleman. Upon a fine figure was well set a fine 
head, slightly bald, with grayish- white hair curled in tight, 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 289 

short ringlets round and behind a most pleasing, benignant 
face. His beard was short and thick, in color brown and 
gray, well mixed. He tasted temperately of the champagne 
I placed before him, while Tolmie, who was totally abstinent 
for example's sake in the presence of his boys, prescribed 
himself doses of brandy. The Rev. Mr. Good, I think, 
enjoyed the brandy and cigars which were freely placed at his 
command fully as much as constructing elegant sentences. 
Preferring to v/rite rather than to dictate, Mr. Finlayson gave 
me from his own pen in graphic detail many of the most 
stirring incidents in the history of British Columbia. 

But more than to any other in Victoria, I feel myself 
indebted to Mr. A. C. Anderson, a man not only of fine 
education, but of marked literary ability. Of poetic tempera- 
ment, chivalrous in thought, of acute observation and retentive 
memory, he proved to be the chief and standard authority on 
all matters relating to the country. He had published several 
works of value and interest, and was universally regarded as the 
most valuable living witness of the past. Tall, symmetrical, 
and very erect, with a long, narrow face, ample forehead, well 
brushed white hair, side-whiskers, and keen, light-blue eyes, 
he looked the scholar he was. Scarcely allowing himself an 
interruption, he devoted nearly two weeks to my work with 
such warm cheerfulness and gentlemanly courtesy as to win 
our hearts. Besides this, he brought me much valuable 
material in the form of record-books and letters. 

I could write a volume on what I saw and did during this 
visit of about a month at Victoria, but I must hasten forward. 
After a dinner at Sir Matthew's; a grand entertainment at 
Mr. Marvin's ; several visits from and to Lady Douglas, Mrs. 
Harris, Doctor and Mrs. Ash, and many other charming calls 
and parties, and a hundred promises, not one in ten of which 
was kept; leaving Mr. Long to finish copying the Douglas 
papers, the Fraser papers, the Work journals, and the man- 
uscripts furnished by Anderson, Finlayson, Tod, Spence, 
Vowel, and others ; after a voyage to New Westminster, and 
after lending our a.'^sistance in celebrating the Queen's birth- 
19 



290 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

day, on the last day of May we crossed to Port Townsend, 
having completed one of the hardest months of recreation I 
ever experienced. But long before this I had reached the con- 
clusion that while this work lasted there was no rest for me. 
At every move a new field opened. At Port Townsend, 
which in its literary perspective presented an aspect so for- 
bidding that I threatened to pass it by without stopping, I 
was favored with the most fortunate results. Judge James 
G. Swan, ethnologist, artist, author of Three Years at Shoal- 
water Bay^ and divers Smithsonian monographs and news- 
paper articles, was there ready to render me every assistance, 
which he did by transferring to me his collection, the result 
of thirty years' labor in that direction, and supplementing 
his former writing by other and unwritten experiences. Ma- 
jor J. J. H. Van Bokkelen was there, and after giving me his 
dictation, presented to Mrs. Bancroft a valuable collection of 
Indian relics, which he had been waiting twenty years, as he 
said, to place in the hands of some one who would appreci- 
ate them. There we saw Mr. Pettigrove, one of the found- 
ers of Portland ; Mr. Plummer, one of the earliest settlers at 
Port Townsend; W. G. Spencer, N. D. Hill, John L. Butler, 
Henry A. Webster, and L. H. Briggs, from all of whom I 
obtained additions to my historical stores. Dr. Thomas T. 
Minor entertained us handsomely, and showed me through 
his hospital, which was a model of neatness and comfort. 
He obtained from Samuel Hancock of Coupeville, Whidbey 
island, a voluminous manuscript, which was then at the east 
seeking a publisher. James S. Lawson, captain of the United 
States coast survey vessel Fauntleroy^ took us on board his 
ship and promised to write for me a history of western coast 
survey, the fulfilment of which reached me some six months 
after in the form of a very complete and valuable manuscript. 
Here, likewise, I encountered Amos Bowman, of Anacortes, 
Fidalgo island, whom I engaged to accompany me to Ore- 
gon and take dictations in short-hand. He remained with 
me until my northern work as far south as Salem was done, 
when he proceeded to San Francisco and took his place for 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 29 1 

a time in the library. He was a good stenographer, but not 
successful at literary work. 

After a visit to Fort Townsend, upon the invitation of 
William Gouverneur Morris, United States revenue agent, 
continued our way to Seattle, the commercial metropolis of 
the territory. Three thousand lethargic souls at this date 
comprised the town, with a territorial university and an 
eastern railroad as aspirations. There we met Yesler, saw- 
mill owner and old man of the town; and Horton, who 
drove us through the forest to the lake ; and Mercer, Lans- 
dale, Arthur Denny, Booth, Hill, Spencer, and Haller, from 
each of whom we obtained valuable information. Mrs. Abby 
J. Hanford subsequently sent me an interesting paper on 
early times at Seattle. There also I met the pioneer express- 
man of both California and British Columbia, Billy Ballou, 
a rare adventurer, and in his way a genius, since dead. 

The North Pacific^ a neat little steamboat, had carried us 
across from. Victoria to Port Townsend, where the Dakota 
picked us up for Seattle ; thence, after two days' sojourn, we 
embarked for Olympia on board the Messenger^ Captain 
Parker, an early boatman on these waters. When fairly afloat 
I took my stenographer to the wheel-house, and soon were 
spread upon paper the striking scenes in the Hfe of Captain 
Parker, who, as our little craft shot through the glassy forest- 
fringed inlet, recited his history in a clear intelligent manner, 
together with many points of interest descriptive of our 
charming surroundings. 

On board the Messe?iger was Captain ElHcott of the United 
States coast survey, who invited us to land at his camp, some 
ten miles before reaching Olympia, and spend the night, which 
we did, touching first at Tacoma and Steilacoom. After an 
excellent dinner. Bowman wrote from the captain's notes 
until eleven o'clock, when we retired, and after an early 
breakfast next morning the captain's steam yacht conveyed 
us to the capital of the territory. 



292 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Immediately upon our arrival at Olympia we were waited 
upon by the governor and Mrs. Ferry, Elwood Evans, his- 
torian of this section, Mrs. Evans, and others among the 
chief ladies and gentlemen of the place. Mr. Evans devoted 
two days to me, drew forth from many a nook and corner 
the musty records of the past, and placed the whole of his 
material at my disposal. 

" I had hoped," said he, " to do this work m.yself, but your 
advantages are so superior to mine that I cheerfully yield. 
I only wish to see the information I have gathered during the 
last thirty years properly used, and in your hands I know 
that will be done." 

And so the soul of this man's ambition, in the form of two 
large cases of invaluable written and printed matter on the 
Northwest Coast, was shipped down to my library, of which 
it now constitutes an important part. To call such an act 
generous is faint praise. Then, as well as before and after, 
his warm encouraging words, and self-sacrificing devotion to 
me and my work, won my lasting gratitude and affection. 

At Portland we found ready to assist us, by every means 
in their power, many warm friends, among whom were S. F. 
Chadwick, then governor of Oregon ; Matthew P. Deady, of 
the United States judiciary ; WiUiam Strong, one of the first 
appointees of the federal government, after the treaty, as 
judge of the supreme court ; Mrs. Abernethy, widow of the 
first provisional governor of Oregon, and Mrs. Harvey, 
daughter of Doctor McLoughlin, and formerly wife of Wil- 
Ham Glenn Rae, who had charge of the Hudson's Bay 
company's affairs, first at Stikeen and afterward at Yerba 
Buena. Colonel Sladen, aide-de-camp to General Howard, 
who was absent fighting Indians, not only threw open to me 
the archives of the mihtary department, but directed his 
clerks to make such abstracts from them as I should require. 
Elisha White, the first Indian and government agent in 
Oregon, I learned was in San Francisco. On my return I 
immediately sought him out, and had many long and profit- 
able interviews with him. I should not fail to mention 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 293 

Governor Gibbs, General Hamilton, Stephen Coffin, Mrs. J. 
H. Couch, Mr. McCraken, H. Clay Wood, Mr. Corbett, 
George H. Atkinson, Simeon Reed, W. Lair Hill, and H. 
W. Scott of the Orego7iian. R. P. Earhart kindly supplied 
me with a set of the Oregon grand lodge proceedings. In 
company with Dr. J. C. Hawthorne we visited his insane 
asylum, a model of neatness and order. General Joseph 
Lane, hero of the Mexican war and many northern Indian 
battles, first territorial governor of Oregon, and first delegate 
from the territory to Congress, I met first at Portland and took 
a dictation from him in the parlor of the Clarendon hotel, at 
which we were staying, and subsequently obtained further 
detail at his home at Roseburg. J. N. Dolph wrote Mr. 
Gray, the historian, who lived at Astoria, to come to Portland 
to see me, but he was not at home, and my business with him 
had to be done by letter. Mrs. F. F. Victor, whose writings 
on Oregon were by far the best extant, and whom I wished 
much to see, was absent on the southern coast gathering in- 
formation for the revision of her Oregon and Washington, 
On my return to San Francisco I wrote offering her an en- 
gagement in my library, which she accepted, and for years 
proved one of my most faithful and efficient assistants. 
Father Blanchet was shy and suspicious : I was not of his 
fold ; but as his w^ide range of experiences was already in print 
it made little difference. 

We had been but a few hours in this beautiful and hospi- 
table city when we were informed that the annual m.eeting 
of the Oregon pioneers' association was to open immediately 
in Salem. Dropping our work at Portland, to be resumed 
later, w^e proceeded at once to the capital, and entered upon 
the most profitable five days' labor of the entire trip ; for there 
we found congregated from the remotest corners of the state the 
very men and women we most wished to see, those who had 
entered that region when it was a wilderness, and had con- 
tributed the most important share toward making the society 
and government what it was. Thus six months of ordinary 
travel and research were compressed within these five days. 



294 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

I had not yet registered at the Chemeketa hotel in Salem 
when J. Henry Brown, secretary of the pioneers' association, 
presented himself, at the instance of Governor Chadwick, 
and offered his services. He was a fair type of the average 
Oregonian, a printer by trade, and poor, as is apt to be the 
case with printers. I found him a diamond in the rough, and 
to-day there is no man in Oregon I more highly esteem. He 
knew everybody, introduced me and my mission to every- 
body, drummed the town, and made appointments faster 
than I could keep them. He secured for me all printed 
matter which I lacked. He took me to the state archives, 
and promised to make a transcript of them. I paid him a 
sum of money, for which he afterward did more than he had 
bargained. 

It was a hot and dusty time we had of it, but we worked 
with a will, day and night ; and the notes there taken, under 
the trees and in the buildings about the fair- grounds, at the 
hotel, and in private parlors and offices, made a huge pile of 
historic lore when written out as it was on our return to 
San Francisco. There was old Daniel Waldo, who, though 
brought by infirmity to time's border, still stoutly stumped his 
porch and swore roundly at everything and everybody be- 
tween the Atlantic and Pacific. There was the mild missionary 
Parrish, who in bringing the poor Indian the white man's reli- 
gion and civilization, strove earnestly but fruitlessly to save 
him from the curses of civilization and religion. There was 
John Minto, eloquent as a speaker and writer, with a wife but 
little his inferior: the women, indeed, spoke as freely as the men 
when gathered round the camp fires of the Oregon pioneers' 
association. For example : Mrs. Minto had to tell how 
women lived, and labored, and suffered, and died, in the early 
days of Oregon ; how they clothed and housed themselves, 
or, rather, how they almost dispensed with houses and clothes 
during the first wet winters of their sojourn; how an admir- 
ing young shoemaker had measured the impress of her 
maiden feet in the mud, and sent her as a present her first 
Oregon shoes. Mrs. Samuel A. Clarke took a merry view 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 295 

of things, and called crossing the plains in 185 1 a grand pic- 
nic. J. Quinn Thornton, with his long grizzly hair and oily- 
tongue, was there, still declaiming against Jesse Applegate for 
leading him into Oregon by the then untried southern route 
thirty years before. Judge Thornton rendered important 
service by transferring to me valuable material collected by 
him for literary purposes, for he too had affected history, but 
was now becoming somewhat infirm. David Newsome 
knew something, he said, but would tell it only for money. 
I assured David that the country would survive his silence. 
Mr. Clarke, with his amiable and hospitable wife and 
daughters, spared no pains to make our visit pleasing as well 
as profitable. Senator Grover was in Washington, but I 
caught him afterward in San Francisco as he was passing 
through, and obtained from him a lengthy and valuable dic- 
tation. General Joel Palmer told me all he could remember, 
but his memory was evidently failing. James W. Nesmith 
related to me several anecdotes, and afterward sent me a 
manuscript of his own writing. The contribution of Medorem 
Crawford w^as important. Among the two or three hundred 
prominent Oregonians I met at Salem I can only mention 
further Richard H. Ekin, Horace Holden, Joseph Holman, 
W. J. Herren, and H. H. Gilfry, of Salem; W. H. Rees, 
Butteville; B. S. Clark, Champoeg; William L. Adams, 
Hood River; B. S. Wilson, Corvallis; Joseph Watts, Amity ; 
George B. Roberts, Cathlamet; R. C. Gear, Silverton; 
Thomas Congdon, Eugene City ; B. S. Strahan and Thomas 
Monteith, Albany ; and Shamus Carnelius, Lafayette. Philip 
Ritz of Walla Walla gave me his dictation in San Francisco. 
On our way back to Portland we stopped at Oregon City, 
the oldest town in the state, where I met and obtained re- 
citals from S. W. Moss, A. L. Lovejoy, and John M. Bacon, 
and arranged with W. H. H. Fonts to copy the archives. I 
cannot fail, before leaving Portland, specially to mention the 
remarkable dictations given me by Judge Deady and Judge 
Strong, each of which, with the author's writings already 
in print, constitutes a history of Oregon in itself. Indeed, 



296 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

each of these gentlemen had intended to write a history of 
Oregon. 

After a flying visit to the Dalles, overland by rail from 
Portland to San Francisco was next in order, with private 
conveyance over the Siskiyou mountains. It was a trip I 
had long wished to make, and we enjoyed every hour of it. 
I have not space for details. We stopped at many places, 
saw many men, and gathered much new material. At Drain 
we remained one day to see Jesse Applegate, and he spent 
the entire time with us. He was a remarkable person, in 
some respects the foremost man in Oregon during a period 
of twenty years. In him were united the practical and the 
intellectual in an eminent degree. He could explore new 
regions, lay out a farm, and write essays with equal facility. 
He was political economist, mechanic, or historian, according 
to requirement. His fatal mistake, like that of many another 
warm-hearted and chivalrous man, was, as he expressed it, in 
" signing his name once too often." But though the payment 
of the defaulter's bond sent him in poverty into the hills of 
Yoncalla, he was not dispirited. At seventy, with his active 
and intellectual hfe, so lately full of flattering probabihties, a 
financial failure, his eye was as bright, his laugh as unaflected 
and merry, his form as erect and graceful, his step as elastic, 
his conversation as brilliant, his realizing sense of nature and 
humanity as keen, as at forty. Never shall I forget that day, 
nor the friendship that grew out of it. 

The veteran Joseph Lane I found somewhat more difficult 
of management in his home at Roseburg than at Portland. 
Congressional honors were on his brain. Nevertheless, in 
due time, I obtained from him all I required. 

I must conclude this narrative of my northern journey with 
the barest mention of a few out of the hundreds I met on my 
way who took an active interest in the history of their native 
or adopted land : 

P. P. Prim, L. J. C. Duncan, J. M. McCall, Lindsay 
Applegate, J. M. Sutton, Daniel Gaby, WilHam Bybee, 
David Lin, and James A. Cardwell, whom I met at Jackson- 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 297 

ville; Anthony M. Sleeper, Joseph Rice, D. Ream, A. P. 
McCarton, Thomas A. Bantz, A. E. Raynes, F. G. Hearn, 
of Yreka; C. W. Taylor and Charles McDonald, of Shasta; 
Henry F. Johnson and Chauncey C. Bush, of Reading, 
important names in the local history of their respective places. 
Mrs. Laura Morton of the state library, Sacramento, very kindly 
copied for me the diary of her father, Philip L. Edwards. 

The 7th of July saw me again at my table at Oakville. It 
was during the years immediately succeeding the return from 
my expedition to the north that I wrote the History of the 
Northwest Coast and the History of British Columbia ; Oregoft 
and Alaska came later. 

In reviewing this journey, I would remark that I found at 
the headquarters of the Hudson's Bay Company in Victoria 
rooms full of old accounts, books, and letters, and boxes and 
bins of papers relating to the business of the company, and 
of its several posts. The company's Oregon archives were 
lodged here, and also those from the Hawaiian islands and 
the abandoned posts of New Caledonia. 

The office of the provincial secretary contained at this time 
books and papers relative to the local affairs of the govern- 
ment, but I found in them little of historical importance. 
At the government house, in the office of the governor's pri- 
vate secretary, was richer material, in the shape of despatches 
between the governors of British Columbia and Vancouver 
island and the secretary of state for the colonies in London 
with the governor-general of Canada. There were likewise 
correspondence of various kinds, despatches of the minister 
at Washington in 1856-70, papers relative to the San Juan 
difficulty, the naval authorities at Esquimalt, 1859-71, letters 
from Admiral Moresby to Governor Blanchard, and many 
miscellaneous records and papers important to the historian. 

Oregon's most precious material for history I found in the 
heads of her hardy pioneers. The office of the adjutant- 
general of the department of the Columbia contained record- 
books and papers relative to the affairs of the department 



298 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

which throw much Hght on the settlement and occupation 
of the country. There were letters-sent-books and letters- 
received-books since 1858, containing instructions and advices 
as to the establishment of posts and the protection of the 
people. The public library, Portland, contained nothing 
worthy of special mention. 

There was once much valuable material for history in the 
Oregon state library at Salem, but in 1856 a fire swept it 
away. The legislature passed a law requiring a copy of 
every newspaper published in the state to be sent to the state 
library, but the lawyers cut into them so badly for anything 
they desired that finally the librarian sold them to Chinamen 
for wrapping-paper - — a shiftless and short-sighted policy, I 
should say. It had been the intention of the state to preserve 
them, but as no money was appropriated for binding, they 
were scattered and destroyed. At the time of my visit in 
1878 there was little in the state library except government 
documents and law-books. 

In the rooms of the governor of Oregon were the papers 
of the provisional government and such others as naturally 
accumulate in an executive office. When I saw them they 
were in glorious disorder, having been thrown loose into 
boxes without respect to kind or quality. Engaging Mr. J. 
Henry Brown to make copies and abstracts of them, I stipu- 
lated that, for the benefit of the state, he should leave them 
properly classified and chronologically arranged. Mr. Brown 
had made a collection of matter with a view of writing a 
statistical work on Oregon, and possessed a narrative of an ex- 
pedition under Joseph L. Meek, sent by the provisional gov- 
ernment to Washington for assistance during the Indian war. 
He also had a file of the Oregonian, A. Bush possessed a 
file of the Oregon Statesman, From Mrs. Abernethy I 
obtained a file of the Orego7z Spectator, the first newspaper 
published in Oregon. Mr. Nesmithhad a fiJeof the journal 
last mentioned, besides boxes of letters and papers. 

The first printing-press ever brought to Oregon was sent 
to the Sandwich Islands by the American board of commis- 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 299 

sioners for foreign missions, and was used there for printing 
books in the Hawaiian language; then, at the request of 
doctors Whitman and Spaulding, it was transferred to Oregon, 
to the Nez Perce mission on the Clearwater, now called the 
Lapwai agency. This was in 1838. The press was used 
for some time to print books in the Nez Perce and Walla 
Walla languages, and at the time of my visit it stood in the state 
house at Salem, a rare and curious relic, where also might be 
seen specimens of its work under the titles : Nez Perch First 
Book; designed for children and new beginners. Clear 
Water ^ Mission Press ^ 1^39* The latter was prepared in the 
Nez Perce language, by the Rev. H. H. Spaulding. Mat- 
thezunim Taaiskt. Pri?ited at the press of the Oregon Mission 
under the direction of The A77ierican Boaj^d^ C F. Missions, 
Clear Water : M. G. Fvisy, Printer — being the gospel of Mat- 
thew, translated by H. H. Spaulding, and printed on eighty 
pages, small 4to, double columns. Another title-page was 
Talapusapaiain Wanipt Timas, Paul wah sailas hiwan- 
pshina Godnim wataskitph, Luk. Kauo wanpith Lordiph 
timnaki, Paul. Lapwai : 1842 — which belonged to a book 
of hymns prepared by Mr. Spaulding in the Nez Perce lan- 
guage. 

Before setting out on my northern journey I had arranged 
with Mr. Petroff, a member of the library staff, to visit Alaska, 
and continue the northward line of search where my investi- 
gations should leave it, thus joining the great northwest to 
southern explorations already effected. 

I applied through Senator Sargent to the government 
authorities in Washington for passage for Mr. Petroff on 
board any revenue-cutter cruising in Alaskan waters. The 
request was granted. 

Mr. Petroff embarked at San Francisco on board the 
Richard Rush, Captain Bailey, the loth of July, 1878, touched 
at Port Townsend the i6th, at Nanaimo for coal on the 17th, 
and anchored that night in the Seymour Narrows, in the 
gulf of Georgia. Late on the afternoon of the i8th Fort 



300 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Rupert was reached, where Mr. Petroff met Mr. Hunt, in 
charge of the station, who had resided there since 1849; Mr. 
Hall, a missionary, was also settled there. After sailing from 
Fort Rupert in the early morning and crossing Queen Char- 
lotte sound, anchorage was made that evening in Safety cove, 
Fitzhugh sound. Passing Bellabella, another of the Hudson's 
Bay company's stations, the cutter continued its course until 
it reached Holmes bay, on McKay reach. On Sunday, the 
2 1 St, the course lay through Grenville channel to Lowe inlet, 
and the following day was reached Aberdeen, Cardena bay, 
where an extensive salmon cannery was situated. 

The first archives to be examined were at Fort Simpson. 
There Petroff met Mr. McKay, agent of the fur company, 
who placed at his command the daily journals of the post 
dating back to 1833. Over these papers Petroff worked 
assiduously from nightfall till half-past one, in the quaint old 
office of the Hudson's Bay company, with its remnants of 
home-made carpets and furniture. Only eight volumes were 
examined during his limited stay; but subsequently I had 
the good fortune to obtain the loan of the whole collection 
for examination at my library in San Francisco. In inky 
darkness Petroff then made his way out of the stockade of 
the fort through a wilderness of rocks and rows of upturned 
canoes, until he reached the cutter. Mr. McKay had taken 
passage for Fort Wrangel, and during the trip furnished a 
valuable dictation. The fort was reached on the evening of 
the 23d. Upon arriving at Fort Sitka, on the morning of July 
26th, Petroff immediately began to work upon the church 
and missionary archives furnished by Father Mitropolski, and 
spent the evening obtaining information from old residents 
and missionaries ; among the latter. Miss Kellogg, Miss 
Cohen, and Mr. Bredy had interesting experiences to relate. 
Collector Ball and his deputy were most attentive. July 28th 
the cutter steamed away for Kadiak, which was reached two 
days later. The agents of the Alaska commercial company, 
and of Falkner, Bell, and company, Messrs. Mclntyre and 
Hirsch, came on board the steamer, and were very commu- 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 301 

nicative. Mr. Mclntyre lent Petroff the company's journals, 
which were thoroughly examined. Among those who fur- 
nished personal data from long residence in this country 
were Mr. Stafeifk, Mr. Zakharof, and Father Kashefarof. 
Others, recently arrived from Cook inlet, also gave consider- 
able information. Mr. Pavlof, son of the former Russian 
governor, and manager at this time of the American and 
Russian Ice company, had much important knowledge 
to impart. 

Mr. Mclntyre also presented Petroff with a mummy, which 
was sent to the Bancroft library and placed in a glass case. 
It was obtained by Mr. Mclntyre from Nutchuk island, from 
a cave on the side of a steep mountain very difficult of access. 
The body is well preserved, with a finely formed head, bear- 
ing Httle resemblance either to Aleut or Kalosh. The hair 
is smooth and black ; it has the scanty mustache and goatee, 
sometimes noticeable among Aleuts. The nose has lost its 
original shape. Brown and well dried, with chin resting on 
the raised knees, this strange relic has a curious appearance 
as it surveys its new surroundings. This much of its history 
is furnished by the natives : Long ago, before the Russians 
had visited these lands, there had been war between the 
Nutchuk people and the Medonopky, Copper River people, 
who were called Ssootchetnee. The latter were victorious, 
and carried home the women, slaying the men and boys. 
The conquered Nutchuks waited for many years their turn 
to avenge themselves. One day, while some of the Ssoo- 
tchetnees were hunting sea-otter along the shore, several 
bidarkas from Nutchuk approached, and in the attack which 
followed captured the hunters. Guided by a smoke column, 
they went on shore and discovered a woman cooking. She 
was one of the Nutchuk captives, who had been taken from 
their island, and was now wife and mother to some of the 
men just secured. Her father had been a great chief, but was 
dead; and when she was returned a prisoner to her native land 
the chief of the island refused to recognize her because of her 



302 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

relations with the Ssootchetnees. Cruelly he drove her from 
him, telling her to go to a cave in the side of a mountain if 
she sought comfort. Obeying, she proceeded thither, and 
found the naked bodies of her husband and two sons. So 
copiously flowed her tears that the bottom of the cave was 
filled with water, which submerged the bodies. Nor were 
her groans without avail, for they reached the heart of the 
powerful Wilghtnee, a woman greatly respected for her good- 
ness, and because she controlled the salmon, causing them 
every year to ascend the river, and bringing other fish from 
the deep sea near to the shore. Wilghtnee lived in a lake of 
sweet water above the cave, and soon learned the story of 
wrongs and injustice from the weeping woman. Command- 
ing her to cease lamenting, and assuring her that she need 
not grieve for the want of skins in which to sew her dead, as 
was the custom, Wilghtnee took the bodies where should fall 
upon them the waters from her mountain lake, and in a short 
time they became fresh and beautiful, shining like the flesh 
of the halibut. Then were they returned to the cave, and 
Wilghtnee promised that they should forever after remain 
unchanged. Retribution followed the chief's cruelty, for 
Wilghtnee was as relentless in her anger as she was tender in 
her sympathy, and not a salmon was permitted to enter the 
river or lake that year, which caused the death from hunger 
of the chief and many of his tribe. Then was the woman 
made his successor, and during her rule never again did 
Wilghtnee permit the salmon to fail. The new ruler taught 
the people how to preserve their dead, and closed the cave, 
in which alone and forever she destined should remain her 
Ssootchetnee husband and children. 

On the 3d of August Mr. Petroff reached the trading-post 
at Belkovsky, and thence passed along the southern extrem- 
ity of the Alaskan peninsula, through Unimak strait into 
Bering sea, to Iliuliuk, Unalaska island, where he remained 
for two weeks, and where he received cordial assistance in 
his labors from all who had it in their power to help him. 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 303 

Mr. Greenbaum, of the Alaska Commercial company, ob- 
tained for him access to the church and company records, 
and gave him a desk in his office. Throughout this trip Mr. 
Greenbaum was exceedingly kind, furnishing him means of 
transportation, and otherwise assisting in his explorations. 
Bishop Seghers of British Columbia, and Father Montard, 
the Yukon missionary, furnished much important material 
concerning the Yukon country. The bishop was an accom- . 
plished Russian linguist. Father Shashnikof, the most intelli- 
gent and respected of all the representatives of the Greek 
church, was the oldest priest in Alaska, and chief authority on 
the past and present condition of the Aleuts, and had in his 
possession documents of great value, of ancient date, and 
interesting matter. 

Mr. Petrofif visited, among other places of historic interest, 
the spot where Captain Levashef wintered in 1768, ten years 
before Captain Cook, imagining himself its discoverer, took 
possession for the British crown. A few iron implements left 
by the earlier party, or stolen from them, are still exhibited 
by the natives. Again he visited an island where a massacre 
of Russians by Aleuts took place in 1786; the ground plan 
of the Russian winter houses is still visible. 

Mr. Lucien Turner, signal service officer and correspondent 
of the Smithsonian institute, had been stationed at various 
points in this vicinity for many years, and had made a 
thorough study of the languages, habits, and traditions of 
all tribes belonging to the Innuit and Tinneh families. Petroff 
found him a valuable informant on many subjects. 

Hearing of an octogenarian Aleut at Makushino, on the 
southwestern side of the island, whose testimony it was 
important to obtain, Petroff went in search of the old man, 
accompanied by the Iliuliuk chief Rooff as interpreter, and 
another Aleut as guide. They encountered great difficulties. 
Instead of the five or six streams described they waded knee- 
deep through fifty-two the first day. At five the next morning 
they started again. It was possible only at low tide to round 
the projecting points of rock, and at times they jumped from 



304 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

bowlder to bowlder, at others they crept along narrow shp- 
pery shelves, while the angry tide roared at their feet, and 
overhanging cliffs precluded the possibiHty of ascent. Eleven 
wearisome hours of walking brought them to a lake, through 
which for two miles they waded, as their only v/ay of reaching 
Makushino. There the old chief received them well and told 
all he knew. 

Before leaving lUuHuk, Mr. Petroff had long interviews with 
Doctor Mclntyre, Captain Erskine, and Mr. John M. Morton. 

Again the cutter weighed anchor, amidst dipping of flags 
and waving of handkerchiefs. This was on the 19th of 
August, and at noon the following day they arrived at St. 
George, where Mr. Morgan and Doctor Specting, the agent 
and physician of the fur company, came on board and gave 
Mr. Petroff some notes. Upon reaching St. Paul that evening, 
Mr. Armstrong, an agent of the company, and Petroff landed 
in a whale-boat, passing between jagged rocks through dan- 
gerous surf. They were met by Captain Moulton, treasury 
agent. Doctor Kelley, and Mr. Mclntyre, who, together with 
Mr. Armstrong, kindly assisted in making extracts that night 
from their archives and hospitably entertained him. Early 
the following morning Father Shashnikof placed in Petroff 's 
hands bundles of church records, with which the former 
priest had begun to paper his house, but the present incum- 
bent, recognizing their value, rescued the remainder. The 
chief of the Aleuts spent some time with him, giving a clear 
account of the past and present condition of his people. 
He was very intelligent, and evidently had Russian blood in 
his veins. 

At Tchitchtagof, on Altoo island, where the cutter an- 
chored the 25th, Petroff found records of the community 
kept during the past fifty years. Five days later saw the 
Rush at Atkha, in Nazan bay. Here som.e interesting inci- 
dents of early days were obtained from two old men and one 
woman of eighty. On all these islands the natives spoke of 
M. Pinart and his researches. On the ist of September 
they landed at Unalaska, where Petroff met Mr. Lunievsky, 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 305 

Mr. King, Mr. Fred Swift, and the Reverend Innocentius 
Shashnikof, and was at once put in possession of the archives, 
and materially assisted in his labors by the priest throughout 
his stay. The Rush was detained here several days on 
account of the weather. Gregori Krukof, trader from a 
neighboring village, named Borka, on the east side of the 
island, and the native chief Nikolai, visited Unalaska during 
that time, and took Petroff back with them to visit the place 
where Captain Cook had wintered in 1778. Borka is situated 
on Beaver bay, between a lake and a small cove. On the 
arrival of the bidarkas the chief assembled the oldest of the 
inhabitants and questioned them as to their knowledge of 
Captain Cook. They related w^hat they remembered as told 
them by their parents, that once a foreign vessel came into 
Beaver bay and anchored opposite to their village, off Bob- 
rovskaya, where it remained but a few days, afterward 
sailing around into what has ever since been called the 
" English burkhta," or bay, where the vessel was moored 
and remained all winter. The foreigners built winter- quar- 
ters, and with the natives killed seals, which abounded at that 
time. The captain's name was Kukha. The following 
morning Petroff, with the chief as guide, visited the places 
mentioned. All that remains of Bobrovskaya is a gigantic 
growth of weeds and grass over the building sites and depres- 
sions where houses had stood. A whitewashed cross marks 
the spot where the chapel was established, and at some dis- 
tance away, on the hill-side, a few posts and crosses indicate 
the ancient graveyard. Two or three miles intervened 
between the old village and the anchorage, the trail being 
obliterated by luxuriant vegetation. It is a beautiful land- 
locked bay, and as a harbor for safety and convenience can- 
not be excelled in all Alaska. Abreast of this anchorage is a 
circular basin, into which empties the water running over a 
ledge of rocks. Between the basin and the beach is an exca- 
vation in a side hill, twenty feet square, indicating the winter 
habitation of foreigners, as it is contrary to the custom of the 
Aleuts to build in that shape or situation. 
20 



306 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Mr. Petroff made an expedition to some Indian fortifica- 
tions, supposed to be two hundred years old, situated on the 
top of a mountain two thousand feet high and ten miles 
distant. According to tradition there had been fierce wars 
between the Koniagas, or Kadiak islanders, and the Unalas- 
ka people, and the ruins of fortifications on both islands 
confirm these traditions. 

On the 9th of October the Rush started on the homeward 
voyage, reaching San Francisco the 27 th. 

Several other trips to Alaska were made by Mr. Petroff 
during his engagement with me, and while none of them 
were wholly for historical purposes, like the one just narrated, 
material for history was ever prominent in his mind. After 
the return of the Rush Mr. Petroff resumed his labor in the 
library, which for the most part consisted in extracting Alaska 
material and translating Russian books and manuscripts 
for me. 

While thus engaged he saw a notice in the Alaska Twies 
of the 2d of April, 1870, that General J. C. Davis had ad- 
dressed to the secretary of war in Washington five boxes of 
books and papers, formerly belonging to the Russian- American 
fur company, and had sent them to division headquarters 
at San Francisco by the Newbern, It was in December, 
1878, that this important discovery was made. Upon inquiry 
from Adjutant-general John C. Kelton it was ascertained 
that the boxes had been forwarded to the war department in 
Washington. Secretary McCrary was questioned upon the 
matter, and replied that the boxes had been transferred to 
the state department. Mr. John M. Morton and William 
Gouvemeur Morris, then on their way to Washington, were 
spoken to on the subject, and promised to institute a search 
for the archives. On the 13th of February, 1879, a letter 
from Mr. Morton announced that the boxes had been found 
by him among a lot of rubbish in a basement of the state 
department, where they were open to inspection, but could not 
be removed. The greater portion of the next two years was 



HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD. 307 

spent by Mr. Petroff in Washington extracting material for 
my History of Alaska from the contents of these boxes. The 
library of congress was likewise examined ; also the archives 
of the navy and interior and coast survey departments, and 
the geological and ethnological bureaus. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 

I worked with patience, which means almost power. I did some 
excellent things indifferently, some bad things excellently. Both were 
praised; the latter loudest. — Mrs, Browning. 

IN treating of the main issues of these industries, I have 
somewhat neglected library details, which I esteem not 
the least important part of these experiences. If the history 
of my literary efforts be worth the writing, it is in the small 
particulars of every- day labors that the reader will find the 
greatest profit. The larger results speak for themselves, and 
need no particular description ; it is the way in which things 
were done, the working of the system, and the means which 
determined results, that are, if anything, of value here. 

Regular business hours were kept in the library, namely, 
from eight to twelve, and from one to six. Smoking was 
freely allowed. Certain assistants desired to work evenings 
and draw extra pay. This was permitted in some instances, 
but always under protest. Nine hours of steady work were 
assuredly enough for one day, and additional time seldom 
increased results ; so, after offering discouragement for several 
years, a rule was established abolishing extra work. 

So rapid was the growth of the library after 1869, and 
so disarranged had become the books by much handling 
for indexing and other purposes, that by midsummer, 1872, 
when Goldschmidt had finished a long work of supple- 
mentary cataloguing, and the later arrivals were ready to 
occupy their places on the shelves, it was deemed expedient 

308 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 309 

to drop the regular routine and devote three or four weeks 
to placing things in order, which was done not only then 
but at intervals thereafter. 

Mr. Oak spent three months in preparing a plan for the 
new index, and in indexing a number of books in order to 
test it and perfect the system. Goldschmidt's time was given 
to taking out notes on the subject of languages, with some 
work on the large ethnographical map, which was prepared 
only as the work progressed. Others were taking out notes 
on mythology, gathering historical reminiscences from pio- 
neers; epitomizing voyages and narratives. 

The books given out to the indexers at this time were such 
as contained information concerning those tribes which were 
first to be described ; that is, if I was soon to be writing on 
the peoples of New Caledonia, as the interior of British 
Columbia was once called, I would give the indexers all books 
of traveHhrough that region, and all works containing infor- 
mation on those nations first, so that I might have the benefit 
of the index in extracting the material. In this manner the 
indexers were kept just in advance of the note-takers, until 
they had indexed all the books in the library having in them 
any information concerning the aborigines of any part of the 
territory. At intervals, whatever the cause of it, the subject 
came up to me in a new light, and I planned and partitioned 
it, as it were, instinctively. 

The system of note-taking, as perfected in details and 
supervised by Mr. Nemos, was as follows : The first step for 
a beginner was to make references, in books given him for 
that purpose, to the information required, giving the place 
where found and the nature of the facts therein mentioned ; 
after this he would take out the information in the form of 
notes. By this means he would learn how to classify and 
how duly to condense ; he would also become familiar with 
the respective merits of authors, their bent of thought, and 
the age in which they lived, and the fulness and trustworthi- 
ness of their works. 



31 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

The notes were written on half sheets of legal folios, one 
following another, without regard to length or subject, but 
always leaving a space between the notes so that they could 
be torn apart. When separated and arranged they were 
placed in paper bags, on which were marked subject and 
date, and the bags numbered chronologically and entered in 
a book. 

After the notes had been used as arranged, according to 
subject and date, with all printed matter at hand bearing on 
the subject, they were pasted on sheets of strong brown 
paper, folded and cut to the required size. On this work 
alone two men and two boys were engaged for over a year. 
These, bound and lettered, made some three hundred books, 
fifteen by eighteen inches, varying in thickness according to 
contents. 

The contents were arranged after the plan of the history, 
and present the subject much more in detail than the printed 
volumes. This series constitutes in itself a library of Pacific 
coast history which eighty thousand dollars could not duplicate 
even with the library at hand. 

Thus qualified, the assistant was given a mass of notes and 
references covering a certain period, or series of incidents, 
with instructions to so reduce the subject-matter that I might 
receive it weeded of all superfluities and repetitions, whether 
in words or in facts already expressed by previous authors, 
yet containing every fact, however minute, every thought and 
conclusion, including such as occurred to the preparer, and 
arranged in as good a historic order as the assistant could 
give it. 

The method to be followed by the assistant to this end was 
as follows : He arranged the references and notes that pointed 
to events in a chronologic order, yet bringing together certain 
incidents of different dates if the historic order demanded 
it. Institutionary and descriptive notes, on commerce, educa- 
tion, with geography, etc., were then joined to such dates 
or occurrences as called for their use : geography coming 
together with an expedition into a new country ; education. 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 3II 

with the efforts of churchmen ; commerce in connection with 
the rule of some governor Avho promoted certain phases of it; 
descriptions of towns, when they were founded, destroyed, or 
prominently brought forward. 

This preliminary grouping was greatly facilitated by the 
general arrangement of all the notes for the particular sec- 
tion of territory, Central America, Mexico, California, etc., 
already made by an experienced assistant. In connection 
with both arrangements a more or less detailed list of events 
and subjects was made to aid in grasping the material. 

With the material thus grouped it was found that each 
small subdivision, incident, or descriptive matter had a num- 
ber of notes bearing upon it, from different authors, sometimes 
several score. These must then be divided into three or more 
classes, according to the value of the authority : the first class 
comprising original narratives and reports; the second, such 
as were based partly on the first, yet possessed certain original 
facts or thoughts ; the third, those which were merely copied 
from others, or presented brief and hasty compilations. 

The assistant then took the best of his first-class authorities, 
the fullest and most reliable, so far as he could judge after a 
brief glance, and proceeded to extract subject-matter from 
the pages of the book to which the reference directed him. 
This he did partly in his own language, partly in a series of 
quotations. The accurate use of quotation marks and stars 
consumed much time. Yet I always insisted upon this : the 
note-taker could throw anything he pleased into his own 
words, but if he used the exact words of the author he must 
plainly indicate it. Sometimes he found the extract already 
made on the slips called notes. The same book might appear 
to be the best authority for a succession of topics, and the 
extracting was continued for some time before the book was 
laid aside. Each extract was indexed in the margin, and at 
the foot of it, or on the page, was written the title of the book 
or paper from which it had been taken. 

The next best authorities were then read on the same topic 
or series of topics, and any information additional or con- 



312 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

tradictory to what had already been noted was extracted and 
placed at the foot of the page bearing on the subject, or on 
a blank page, on which was indexed a heading similar to 
that of the original page, so as to bring the same topics 
together. If these contradictions or additions bore on par- 
ticular expressions or facts in the original extract, they were 
subdivided in accordance with and by means of numbers 
brought in connection with the particular word or line. To 
each subdivision was added the title of the authority. The 
titles of all, or of several first-class authorities which agreed 
with the original extract, were also added to the foot of that 
extract, with the remark, " the same in brief," or " in full " as 
the case might be. This showed me which authors confirmed 
and which contradicted any statement, and enabled me read- 
ily to draw conclusions. From second-class authors the assis- 
tant obtained rarely anything but observations, while the third 
class yielded sometimes nothing. 

As he proceeded in this refining process, or system of con- 
densation, the assistant added in notes to particular lines or 
paragraphs his own observations on the character of the hero, 
the incident, or the author. 

By this means I obtained, as it were, a bird's-eye view of 
all evidence on the topics for my history, as I took them up 
one after the other in accordance with my own order and 
plan for writing. It saved me the drudgery and loss of time 
of thoroughly studying any but the best authorities, or more 
than a few first-class ancient and modern books. 

To more experienced and able assistants were given the 
study and reduction of certain minor sections of the history, 
which I employed in my writing after more or less conden- 
sation and change. 

The tendency with all the work was toward voluminous- 
ness. Not that I am inclined to prolixity, but the subjects 
were so immense that it often appeared impossible to crowd 
the facts within a compass which would seem reasonable to 
the reader. And none but those who have tried it can realize 
all the difficulties connected with this kind of writing. Besides 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 313 

increasing the labor fourfold, it often interferes with style, 
checks enthusiasm, and makes an author feel like one doomed 
to run a mile race in a peck measure. But while I was 
resolved to take space enough fairly to present the subject 
under consideration, I could not but remember that as books 
multiply, readers demand conciseness, and that no fault can 
be greater in this present age than verbosity. 

In November, 1872, 1 engaged a copperplate engraver, and 
from that time till the Native Races was completed I had 
engravers at work at the Market-street end of the library and 
elsewhere. The cuts for volume iv., such of them as I did 
not purchase from eastern authors and publishers, were all 
prepared in the engraving department of the printing-office, 
on the third floor. 

On this floor likewise, a year or two later, the type was set 
and the first proof read. Matters of no inconsiderable im- 
portance and care with me were the type I should use and 
the style of my page. After examining every variety within 
my reach, I settled upon the octavo English edition of 
Buckle's Civilization^ as well for the text and notes as for the 
system of numbering the notes from the beginning to the end 
of the chapter, it was plain, broad-faced, clear, and easily 
read. The notes and reference figures were all in perfect 
taste and harmony. It is a style of page that one never tires 
of. I sent to Scotland for the type, as I could find none of 
it in America. 

It was about this time that I studied the question of the 
origin of the Americans, to find a place for it in some part of 
the Native Races ^ I did not know then exactly where. When 
I began this subject I proposed to settle it immediately ; when 
I finished it I was satisfied that neither I nor any one else 
knew, or without more light ever could know, anything about 
it. I found some sixty theories, one of them about as 
plausible or as absurd as another, and hardly one of them 
capable of being proved or disproved. I concluded to 
spread them all before my readers, not as of any intrinsic 



314 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

value, but merely as curiosities ; and this I did in the opening 
chapter of volume v. of the Native Races. 

Meanwhile indexers were constantly coming and going, at- 
tempting and failing. After trying a hundred or more of the 
applicants who presented themselves, and securing little more 
than a dozen capable of doing the work, I concluded to try 
no more, unless it should be some one manifesting marked 
abiUty, but let those already engaged continue until the index 
was finished. Nine tenths of the applicants were totally unfit 
for the work, though some professed to be able, like Pytha- 
goras, to write on the moon and in as many languages as 
Pantagruel could speak. 

The fact is these constant experiments operated too severely 
against me. First, the applicant expected pay for his time 
whether he succeeded or not; secondly, no inconsiderable 
portion of the time of the best indexers was spent in teach- 
ing the new-comers ; and thirdly, those who attempted and 
failed were sure to be dissatisfied and to charge the cause of 
failure to any one but themselves. 

During the first half of 1873 work continued about as 
before. Mr. Oak spent some weeks on antiquities, but was 
occupied a good portion of the time on early voyages. All 
this time I was writing on northern Indian matter, giving out 
the notes on the southern divisions to others to go over the 
field again and take out additional notes. 

While the subject of early voyages was under my notice I 
felt the necessity of a more perfect knowledge of early maps. 
Directing Goldschmidt to lay out all cosmographies, collec- 
tions of voyages, or other books containing early maps, also 
atlasdS oifac-smiiles^ and single maps, together we went over 
the entire field. Beginning with the earliest map, we first 
wrote a description of it, stating by whom and when it was 
drawn, and what it purported to be. Then, from some point, 
usually the isthmus of Panama, we commenced, and, follow- 
ing the coast, wrote on foolscap paper the name of each 
place, with remarks on its spelling, its location, and other 
points, marking also at the top of the page the name, and 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 315 

taking usually one page for every place. Every geographical 
name and location, great and small, which we could find on 
any early map was thus entered, together with the title of the 
map or source of information. From the next map we would 
take new information respecting previous names, and also 
new names. After thus training Goldschmidt I left him to 
complete the task, and when he had thus gone over all our 
maps we found before us all information on each place that 
could be derived from maps. Several months were thus 
occupied, and when the manuscript was bound in three vol- 
umes and lettered, there was added to the library a Carto- 
graphy of the Pacific Coast, unique and invaluable in tracing 
the early history and progress of discovery. 

A fire which broke out, as I have said, in November, 1873, 
in the basement of the western side of the building seemed 
likely for a moment suddenly to terminate all our labors. 
At one time there appeared not one chance in ten that the 
building or its contents would be saved ; but thanks to a 
prompt and efficient fire department, the flames were extin- 
guished, with a loss of twenty-five thousand dollars only to 
the insurance companies. The time was about half-past five 
in the evening. I had left the library, but my assistants 
were seated at their tables writing. A thick black smoke, 
which rose suddenly and filled the room, was the first intima- 
tion they had of the fire. To have saved anything in case 
the fire had reached them would have been out of the ques- 
tion. They were so blinded by the smoke that they dared 
not trust themselves to the stairs, and it was with difficulty 
they groped their way to a ladder at one side of the'Yoom, 
which led to the roof, by which means they mounted and 
emerged into the open air. In case the building had burned, 
their escape would have been uncertain. No damage was 
done to the library, and all were at their places next morn- 
ing ; but it came home to me more vividly than ever before, 
the uncertainty, not to say vanity, of earthly things. Had 
those flames been given five minutes more, the Bancroft 



31 6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

library, with the Bancroft business, would have been swept 
from the face of earth, and the lore within would have been 
lost to the world. 

In regard to the risk of fire, as my writings increased, and 
the manuscripts in my room represented more and more the 
years of my life and the wearing away of my brain, I deemed 
it wise and prudent to have copies made of all that had been 
and was to be written. Since it would have been premature 
to begin printing at this time, I called in copyists, about 
twenty, who in three or four months transcribed in copying 
ink all that I had written ; from this a second copy was made 
by means of a copying press. This performance completed, 
I sent one copy to my house, one copy to Oakville, and kept 
the original in the library; then I went "to sleep o' nights 
defying the elements or any of their actions. 

In December, 1873, with Goldschmidt's assistance, I made 
a thorough investigation of aboriginal languages on this 
coast. The subject was a somewhat difficult one to manage, 
dialects and affinities running, as they do, hither and thither 
over the country, but I finally satisfied myself that the plan 
of treating it as originally adopted was not the proper one. 
The result was that Goldschmidt was obHged to go over the 
entire field again, and re-arrange and add to the subject- 
matter before I would attempt the writing of it. 

Parts of the work seemed at times to proceed slowly. The 
mythology dragged as though it never would have an end. 
The temptation to shirk, for certain of my assistants, was too 
great to be resisted. With one or two years' work before 
them, abstracting material according to subject instead of by 
the book tended in some instances to laxity and laziness on 
the part of the note-taker. Any one so choosing, in taking 
out notes on a given subject with the view of making his 
subject complete, and at the same time not duphcating 
his notes, could plant himself in the midst of his work and 
there remain, bidding me defiance ; for if I discharged him, 
as under ordinary circumstances I should have done, it would 
be at the loss perhaps of six months' or a year's time. This 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 317 

was well understood, and some took advantage of it. But such 
I discharged immediately that particular piece of work was 
done. 

No little care was required to keep in order the files of 
newspapers. As there were so many of them, I did not 
attempt to keep complete more than the leading journals 
on the coast. Many country editors sent the library their 
journals gratuitously. 

My chief source of newspaper supply was from the public 
libraries and advertising agencies of San Francisco. To the 
latter were sent all interior journals, and by arrangement 
with the agents these were kept for me. They amounted 
to several wagon-loads annually. Once or twice a year I 
sent for them, and out of them completed my files as far as 
possible. In a large record-book was kept an account of 
these files, the name of each journal being entered on a page 
and indexed and the numbers on the shelves entered, so that 
by the book might be ascertained what were in the library 
and what were lacking. In this manner some fifty or sixty 
thousand newspapers were added to the library annually. 

The task of indexing the books was so severe, that at one 
time it seemed doubtful if ever the newspapers would be in- 
dexed. But when it became clearly evident that history 
needed the information therein contained, twenty new men 
were engaged and drilled to the task. I sometimes became 
impatient over what seemed slow progress, yet, buying 
another wagon-load of chairs and tables, I would fill all 
available space with new laborers, all their work being after- 
ward tested by the most reliable members of my stafif. 

The leading journals of the United States, Mexico, and 
Europe, before which I wished to bring my work, I now 
noted, and directed Goldschmidt to mail to their addresses 
copies of such descriptions of the library as appeared in the 
best papers here. 

The printing of volume ii.. Native Races ^ was begun in 
May, 1874, and continued, sometimes very slowly, till Feb- 
ruary, 1875. Matters proceeded during the last half of 1874 



31 8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

about as usual. Between one Saturday night and Monday 
morning my engraver absconded to the east, and the maps 
immediately required I was obliged to send to Philadelphia 
to be engraved. 

While up to my neck in this most harassing of labors, with 
three unfinished volumes, embracing several main divisions 
each, in the hands of the printer, a proposition came from 
the proprietor of the Overland Monthly to two of my men, 
offering them the editorship of that journal, with larger pay 
than I could afford to give. 

The young men behaved very well about it. They im- 
mediately informed me of the offer, asked me to advise them 
what they should do, and assured me they would not accept 
unless with my approbation. Although they were deep in 
my work, although I must lose in a great measure the results 
of their last year's training, and I should have to teach new 
men and delay publication, yet I did not hesitate. I told 
them to go : the pay was better, the position was more prom- 
inent, and their work would be lighter. 

I do not recollect ever to have allowed my interests to 
stand in the way of the advancement of any young man in 
my service. Whenever my advice has been asked, remem- 
bering the time when I was a young man seeking a start, I 
have set myself aside, and have given what I believed to be 
disinterested advice, feeling that in case of a sacrifice I could 
better afford it than my clerk. I could not but notice, how- 
ever, that, nine times in ten, when a young man left me it 
was not to better his fortune. 

To those who best know what it is to make a good book, 
the rapidity and regularity with which the several volumes of 
my works appeared was a source of constant surprise. " How 
you have managed," writes John W. Draper on the receipt of 
the fifth volume of the Native Races ^ " in so short a time and in 
so satisfactory a manner to complete your great undertaking 
is to me very surprising. The commendations that are con- 
tained in the accompanying pamphlet are richly deserved. 
I endorse them all. And now I suppose you feel as Gibbon 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 319 

says he did on completing his Decline, You know he was 
occupied with it more than twenty years. He felt as if the 
occupation of his Ufe w^as gone. But you are far more ener- 
getic than he. You are only at the beginning of your intellec- 
tual hfe: he was near the close. You will find something 
more to do." Thus it is ever. Our best reward for having 
done one work well is that we have another given us to do. 
And thus writes Oliver Wendell Holmes on the com- 
pletion of the Native Races : "I congratulate you on put- 
ting the last stone upon this pyramid you have reared. For 
truly it is a 7?iag?iiim opus, and the accomplishment of it as an 
episode in one man's life is most remarkable. Nothing but 
a perfect organization of an immense literary workshop could 
have effected so much within so limited a time. You have 
found out the two great secrets of the division of labor and 
the union of its results. The last volume requires rather a 
robust reader ; but the political history of the ixs and the itls 
is a new chapter, I think, to most of those who consider 
themselves historical scholars. All the world, and especially 
all the American world, will thank you for this noble addi- 
tion to its literary treasures." 

Such are some of the details of my earlier labors. But 
above all, and beyond all, in breadth of scope and in detail, 
was the history and the workings of it. It was a labor beside 
which the quarter-century application to business, and the 
Native Races with its fifty years of creative work upon it, 
sink into insignificance; and it was, perhaps, the most ex- 
tensive effort ever undertaken by a private individual for 
historical purposes. 

I thought before this I had accomplished something in life, 
with my mercantile and manufacturing establishments in full 
and successful operation, and with such literary effort as I had 
already put forth. I thought I knew what heavy undertakings 
were, and what it was out of no very great means to accom- 
plish great results ; but all seemed Liliputian in comparison 
with the monumental task which the history had laid upon me. 



320 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

The 15th of October, 1875, saw the Native Races com- 
pleted ; but long before this, note-taking on the History of 
the Pacific States had been begun on the plan already de- 
scribed. As I have before remarked, my purpose in this latter 
effort was to take up the same territory as was covered by 
the Native Races, and continue its history from the coming 
of the Europeans. This would be the history proper of the 
country, the Native Races being in reality a description of 
the aborigines; yet the one followed the other in natural 
sequence. Without the Native Races the history would be 
incomplete, could not, indeed, be properly written ; while the 
history is in truth but a continuation of the Native Races, 

It is an immense territory, this western half of North 
America ; it was a weighty responsibility, at least I felt it to 
be such, to lay the foundations of history for this one twelfth 
part of the world. It seemed to me that I stood very near 
to the beginning of a mighty train of events which should 
last to the end of time ; that this beginning, now so clear to 
me, would soon become dim, become more and more indis- 
tinct as the centuries passed by ; and though it is impossible 
for the history of a civilized nation ever to drop wholly out 
of existence while the printing-press continues to move, yet 
much would be lost and innumerable questions would arise, 
which might ere-long become impossible of solution, but 
which might now be easily settled. Large as my conceptions 
were of the magnitude of this labor, and with all my business 
and literary experience, here again, as thrice before in these 
historical efforts, once in the collecting of the library, once 
after completing the first writing of the first parts of my his- 
tory, and once in the writing of the Native Races, I had no 
adequate idea of the extent of the work before I engaged in it. 

The Native Races finished, the entire staff was set to work 
taking out notes for the history. A much more perfect sys- 
tem had been developed for abstracting this material than 
had been used in any of the former work. I do not mean to 
boast, or if I do, it is only with a boasting which the cause 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 32 1 

makes pardonable ; and further, it is not of myself but of my 
assistants that I speak, for I took out only the notes for the 
first parts of my history with my own hands; I say, then, 
without unpardonable boasting, that among all the achieve- 
ments of literature, there are few that will compare in magni- 
tude with this, the gathering, abstracting, and arranging of the 
material for the History of the Pacific States, 

It was regarded as a great achievement successfully to 
handle twelve hundred authorities and compress their con- 
tents into five volumes, presenting the list in the first volume 
of the Native Races, Still more remarkable was it from two 
thousand authorities to write the three volumes of the History 
of Central America, But when on making the list of authori- 
ties for- the six volumes of the History of Mexico I found there 
were ten thousand, I was literally overwhelmed. All of them 
were more or less consulted in writing the history, but I 
could not afford the space to print all the titles, as was my 
custom. They would occupy nearly half a volume. It was 
finally resolved that, referring the reader to the list of authori- 
ties printed in the first volumes of Central America and the 
North Mexicait States^ it must suffice to print only the more 
important ones remaining, and to state clearly the omission 
and its cause at the head of the Hst. 

The task of making references as w^ell as that of taking out 
material was equivalent to five times the labor of writing ; so 
that before a line was written I found no difficulty in keeping em- 
ployed fifteen to twenty persons; for example, in taking out the 
material for CaUfornia history alone, eight men were occupied 
for six years ; for making the references, merely, for the His- 
tory of Mexico^ without taking out any of the required informa- 
tion, five men were steadily employed for a period of ten years. 
Counting those engaged on such work as indexing newspapers, 
epitomizing archives, and copying manuscript, and I have had 
as many as fifty men engaged in library detail at one time. 

Although the work was to be a history of the Pacific States 
from the coming of the Europeans, covering the same terri- 
21 



322 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

tory as was embraced in the Native Races, and would in 
chronological sequence begin with its southern extremity, 
and follow the natural order of discovery and conquest 
northward, yet for several reasons I deemed it best to resume, 
rather than where I left off, the task with the history of CaK- 
fornia : First of all, for the central division of the subject, 
embracing northern Mexico, Arizona, California, Nevada, 
and Utah, following the natural channels of history from the 
conquest of Cortes, more particularly of California, the centre 
of their central division, I had in my possession a great mass 
of original matter, more, proportionately, than of the states 
lying to the south of the city of Mexico. This material con- 
sisted of unpublished manuscript histories and original docu- 
ments which had lain hidden throughout the entire progress of 
the country, and which I had, little by little, unearthed, assorted, 
deciphered, and put in order for historical use ; material of a 
value which could not be measured by money, for if once lost 
it never could be replaced. If lost, it was so much knowledge 
dropped out of existence, it was so much of human experience 
withheld from the general storehouse of human experiences ; 
and the loss would remain a loss throughout all time. 

Moreover, there was more original and unused material for 
the history of California than had ever before been collected 
and preserved of any country of like extent, population, and 
age. The richness of this material consisted in the profusion 
of documentary and personal evidence placed side by side ; 
letters, official papers, and missionary records, united with per- 
sonal narratives, and complete histories of epochs and locali- 
ties dictated by eye-witnesses, and written out by men employed 
solely for my history. 

Day by day and year by year, I had seen these priceless 
treasures accumulate, until the thought of their destruction by 
fire became unendurable, and I determined, long before the 
Native Races was finished, that to place at least the substance 
of this material beyond the perad venture of destruction should 
be my very first work. As I could not then erect a detached 
fire-proof building for my library, the next most direct and 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 323 

practical method was to melt and draw off from the mass the 
metal of historic lore, and recast it into permanent form, in 
which it might be preserved apart from the original material. 

To save the essence of this invaluable collection was then 
my first consideration. This preserved, and all my library 
swept away, I might possibly, in some way, by the aid of the 
archives of Mexico and the libraries of America and Europe, 
complete my history; but the California material once lost, 
there was an end to all my labors. 

Another reason why I should first write the central part of 
the History of the Pacific States was that I now found myself 
at the head of a corps of thoroughly competent and trained 
assistants, very different in point of knowledge and ability 
from the untutored and unskilled workmen who assisted me 
at the beginning of these undertakings. They, as well as I, 
had learned much, had gained much experience in abstract- 
ing material for history, and in all that is included in the 
preparation of a book. 

There were several among my assistants who could now 
take a book or manuscript, no matter how obliterated or in 
what language, decipher it, and placing themselves at the 
desk could intelligently, correctly, systematically, and ex- 
peditiously take out in the form of notes all the historical 
matter the volume contained. When placed in their hands I 
had every confidence that the work would be properly done, 
that it would be no experiment of which the results might 
have to be all thrown away and the labor performed anew. 
This no one of them was capable of doing at first. 

They were likewise familiar with the library, the books and 
their contents, the index and how to use it, the territory and 
much of its history. They knew better what to take out ; 
and although the information to be extracted was as undefin- 
able as ever, and the subject-matter as intricate, the note- 
taking was much more systematic and complete. For five 
years our minds had been dwelling on these things, and on 
little else. Our whole intellectual being had, during these 
years, become saturated with the subject; and although work 



324 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

was now to be taken up in a new form, and conducted on a 
higher plane, and brought yet nearer to perfect completion 
than any before, I felt adequate to the task. Three or five 
years hence I might or might not have as good men in the 
library. Death and disagreements are inseparable from 
humanity, and yet of the latter I had seldom experienced 
one in connection with my literary labors. I believe I never 
have had a serious misunderstanding with any one of my 
regular assistants. We worked together as friends, side by 
side, as in one common interest. This central part of my 
subject I regarded, I will not say as the most important part, 
for each part was equally important, but it was the most 
difficult part, the most intricate and laborious part, and with 
competent and trained assistants it was the part which I could 
most thoroughly perform, and most perfectly finish. This 
was to be the crowning effort of these literary achievements ; 
let me do it, I said, while I am able. 

The library was moved to Valencia street the 9th of Octo- 
ber, 1 88 1, and type-setting was begun on the history the fol- 
lowing day. Although opposed in this removal by several 
of my friends, I persisted. The truth is, I was becoming 
fearful lest it would never be put into type ; lest I should not 
live to complete the work, and I was determined to do what 
I could in that direction while life lasted. My health at this 
time was weaker than ever before, and my nerves were by 
no means quieted by reading one day an article on the busi- 
ness, submitted to me by Mr. Hittell for his Co77imerce and 
Industries^ in which he took occasion to remark of my literary 
undertakings : " The scale on which he has commenced his 
work is so comprehensive that it is doubtful whether he will 
be able to complete it even if he should reach the age of 
three score and ten, with continuous prosperity and good 
health." I thereupon resolved to complete it, to postpone 
dying until this work was done, and I immediately ordered a 
dozen compositors to be put upon the manuscript. Matter 
equivalent to fifteen volumes was then in manuscript, and 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 325 

three fourths of the work on the remainder had been accom- 
plished in the note- taking. I gave out, first, volume i. Cen- 
tral America^ and then volume i. History of Mexico^ both of 
which had been written long years before, and rewritten. 
Thereafter I gave to the printers whatever part of the work 
appeared convenient, so that they frequently had several vol- 
umes in hand at one time. The utmost care was exercised 
in revising, re-writing, comparing, and verifying, as the work 
was passed to press, four or five persons devoting their time 
altogether or in part to this task. 

Further than this, not only would I print, but I would 
publish. I had no delicacy now in placing the imprint of 
the firm on my title-pages. The world might call it making 
merchandise of literature if they chose : I knew it was not, 
that is to say, in a mercenary sense. There was no money in 
my books to the business, hence the business did not specially 
want them. In the publication of several extensive works 
the house had acquired a national reputation, and I was con- 
vinced that it would do better with this series of Pacific 
States histories than any other firm. So I engaged Mr. Na- 
than J. Stone, lately of Japan, but formerly of our own house, 
a man of marked ability, of much experience in our establish- 
ment and elsewhere, to devote him.self to the publication and 
sale of my books. Transferring to him the business con- 
nected therewith, I continued writing more vigorously if pos- 
sible than before. I requested the mayor and the governor 
to visit the library, inspect the work, and then give me a 
certificate, expressing their belief in its completion as then 
promised, which was at the rate of three or four volumes a 
year. I took better care of my health than before, deter- 
mined to piece out my life to cover the time I now calculated 
would be required to finish the series. Lastly I revised my 
will to provide the necessary funds, and appointed literary 
executors, so that my several books should be completed 
and published even in the event of my death. 

Strange infatuation, past the comprehension of man! 
Of what avail this terrible strain, with my body resolved to 



326 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

dust and my intellect dissipated in air ! One would fancy the 
prize a heavenly dukedom at the least ; but when I looked 
up into the heavens I saw no dukedom there. For all that, 
I would abridge my life by twenty years, if necessary, to 
complete the work ; why, I cannot tell, except to me there 
is something extremely fascinating in the printing of a 
book. The metamorphosis of mind into manuscript, and 
manuscript into permanent print ; the incarnation of ideas, 
spreading your thoughts first upon paper and then transfixing 
them by the aid of metal on the printed page, where through 
the ages they may remain, possess a magic beside which the 
subtleties of Albertus Magnus were infantile. In former days 
the masses of mankind clothed with mysterious influence the 
unseen being who committed his thoughts to print. And 
books are indeed a power; even the most ephemeral. No 
book ever lived in vain ; the black and white of its pages, 
its paper and pasteboard, may pass into oblivion, as all but 
the sacred few which spring from the inspiration of genius 
do and should do, yet the soul thereof never dies, but mul- 
tiplies itself in endless transmigrations to the end of time. 

After printing had begun, proof-reading was again in order. 
It was a severe tax ; that is, in the way it was done at the 
library. When the proofs came from the printing-office, where 
they were read and revised by an expert familiar with this 
work, one copy was given to me, one each to Nemos and 
• Oak, who verified both subject-matter and references, com- 
paring them with original authorities, and placing the cor- 
rections of the others with his own on one proof, when it 
was returned to me. One of the staff besides myself also 
read the corrected proof in pages, which were finally revised 
by the chief proof-reader for printers' errors. 

Though written early, the History of California was not 
among the eariiest to be published, except for the first volumes. 
Originally I thought of the history only as one complete 
work, the volumes to be written and published in chrono- 
logical order; but later it occurred to me that there was too 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 327 

great a sweep of territory, climates and governments too 
several and diverse, for me arbitrarily to cement them in one 
inseparable narrative. Many persons would like a history 
of one or more of the countries, but would not care for them 
all. Therefore I finally concluded to write and number the 
volumes territorially, and yet mxaintain such chronological 
order as I was able; that is, I would begin with Central 
America, that part coming first in order of time, and bring 
the history of those states down to date, numbering the 
volumes i., ii., and iii.. History of the Pacific States^ as well 
as I., II. , and iii., Histojy of Coitral America, The History 
of the Pacific States, volume iv., would be the History of 
Mexico, volume i., and so on; and the works might then be 
lettered under both titles and the purchaser be given his 
choice ; or he might prefer to include the Native Paces and 
the supplemental volumes under the yet more general title 
of Bancroft's Works, Thus would simplicity and uniformity 
be preserved, and purchasers be satisfied. With this arrange- 
ment it would not be necessary to confine the order of pub- 
Hcation to the order of numbering, as the volumes might 
very properly appear chronologically, which was, indeed, the 
more natural sequence ; and as a matter of fact they were so 
published. 

Thus the History of the Pacific States would comprise a 
series of histories each complete in itself; yet the whole would 
be one complete history, each in the requisite number of 
volumes : viz., the History of Central America ; the History 
of Mexico ; the History of the North Mexican States and 
Texas ; the History of Arizona and New Mexico ; the History 
of California ; the History of Nevada, V/yoming, and Colo- 
rado ; the History of Utah ; the History of the Nor t Invest 
Coast ; the History of Oregon ; the History of Washington, 
Idaho, a7id Montana ; the History of British Columbia; the 
History of Alaska, The plan was to publish three or four 
volumes a year, to be issued simultaneously in San Francisco, 
New York, London, and Paris. As to the two volumes of 
North Mexican States, I should have preferred to include 



328 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

them in the History of Mexico^ under the one general title. 
But they were in reality a separate work, given more in 
detail than the southern Mexican states, which were treated 
from national rather than from local points of view. And 
this for several reasons : they were newer, so to speak, more 
native, less subdued, less settled and cultivated, the Mexican 
frontier being always toward the north, and not toward the 
west as in the United States; then they were nearer the 
United States, more progressive than the southern Mexican 
states, and in this way they would constitute a stepping-stone 
in respect of detail, both to the nations of the south and to 
the states of the north. 

Another work of the highest importance later forced itself 
upon me, and took its place among my labors as part of my 
history. This was the lives of those who had made the his- 
tory, who had laid the foundations of empire on this coast 
upon which future generations were forever to build. Thus 
far a narrative proper of events had been given, while those 
who had performed this marvellous work were left in the 
background. Every one felt that they deserved fuller treat- 
ment, and after much anxious consideration of the subject, 
there was evolved in my mind a separate section of the history 
under title of Chroiticles of the Builders of the Commonwealth^^ 
which in a framework of history and industrial record gives 
to biography the same prominence which in the history 
proper is given to the narrative of events. 

In addition to the history were the supplemental works, 
California Pastoral^ Califorfiia Inter Focula, Popular Tri- 
bunals^ Essays and Miscellany^ and Literary Industries^ all of 
which grew out of the work on the history, and were carried 
along with it. The first two consist of material left over in 
writing the history, the one of California under missionary 
regi?ne^ and the other of California during the flush times, too 
light and sketchy for exact historical narration, and yet more 
readable in some respects than the history itself. The titles 
of the last two speak for themselves. Of the third I shall 



FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL. 329 

speak further presently. I need not go into detail here re- 
garding their conception and production; suffice it to say- 
that the subjects all came to me of their own accord, and that 
I wrought them out without aid from any one, there being 
no notes to be taken or information to be gathered and 
sifted further than what I was able to accomplish myself 
while writing the history. And yet I should not say this. 
Much of the labor on these volumes w^as performed at my 
home, where was the sweetest and most sympathizing assis- 
tant a literary drudge ever had, constant in season and out of 
season, patient, forbearing, encouraging, cheering. Many a 
long day she has labored by my side, reading and revising ; 
many womanly aspirations she has silenced in order to devote 
her fresh, buoyant life to what she ever regarded as a high 
and noble object. God grant that she and our children may 
long live to gather pleasant fruits from these Literary Indus- 
tries, for I suspect that in this hope lies the hidden and 
secret spring that moves the author in all his efforts. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 

There is a class of authors different from those who cringe to preva- 
lent tastes, and pander to degrading passions ; men whomneither power 
can intimidate, nor flattery deceive, nor wealth corrupt. — Whipple, 

HEGEL says of the Germans : " Instead of writing history, 
we are always beating our brains to discover how his- 
tory ought to be written." Nor is brain-beating fruitless. 
Better never write a word of history, or anything else, unless 
it be of the best. 

My system of historical work requires a few words of ex- 
planation, since not a little of the criticism, both favorable 
and unfavorable, has been founded on an erroneous concep- 
tion of its nature. 

In order to comprehend clearly the error alluded to, it is 
well to note that the composition of an historical work in- 
volves labor of a twofold nature, the dividing line being very 
clearly marked. Material in the nature of evidence has first 
to be accumulated and classified ; subsequently from the evi- 
dence judgments have to be formed and expressed. 

The two divisions might of course be still further sub- 
divided, but such subdivision is not needed for my present 
purpose. My system — if it be worthy to be termed a system 
distinct from others — of which I have in my different works 
had somewhat to say, and others have said still more, has 
no application whatever to the second and final operation of 
an historian's task. Every author aims to collect all possible 
evidence on the topic to be treated, and he accomplishes his 
purpose by widely different methods, of which more anon; 
but having once accomplished that primary object, in his 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 33 1 

later work of mind and pen. there is little that is tangible 
in his process as distinguished from that of another. He 
studies the evidence profoundly or superficially, according to 
his habit of study ; forms his opinions more or less wisely, 
according to the strength of his judgment; and expresses them 
in language diffuse or concise, forcible and graceful, or com- 
monplace and awkward, according to his natural or acquired 
style. 

The philosopher, learned in mental phenomena, may clas- 
sify to his own satisfaction the minds and mind- workings of 
authors ; the literary critic may form comparisons and broad 
generalizations upon style. There are as many variations in 
thoughts as there are in men, in style as there are in writers ; 
but in this part of my work I have no peculiar system or 
method, and I suppose that other authors have none. 

My system, then, applies only to the accumulation and 
arrangement of evidence upon the topics of which I write, 
and consists in the application of business methods and the 
division of labor to those ends. By its aid I have attempted 
to accomplish in one year what would require ten years by 
ordinary methods ; or on a complicated and extensive sub- 
ject to collect practically all the evidence, when by ordinary 
methods a lifetime of toil would yield only a part. 

To illustrate : Let us suppose an industrious author, de- 
termined to write the history of California, at the start wholly 
ignorant of his subject. He easily learns of a few works on 
California, and having purchased them studies their contents, 
making notes to aid his memory. His reading directs him 
to other titles, and he seeks the corresponding books in the 
libraries, pubhc and private, of the city where he resides. 
His search of the shelves and catalogues of the various 
libraries reveals many volumes of whose existence he had not 
dreamed at first; but yet he continues his reading and his 
notes. 

His work, even if he devotes his whole attention to it and 
resides in San Francisco, has at this stage occupied several 
years, and the author just begins to reahze how very many 



:^^2 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

books have been printed about California. His reading, 
perhaps, has covered two hundred and fifty books, and he 
has accumulated the titles in different languages of two hun- 
dred and fifty more not to be had in San Francisco. He 
makes an effort to secure some of those that seem most 
important ; he induces friends at a distance to send him notes 
from others; if possible he travels in Mexico and Europe, 
and thus actually consults many of the missing tomes. But 
in the mean time he has probably learned, through catalogues 
and bibliographical lists, that five hundred more works have 
been printed on his subject, even if he does not yet suspect 
the truth that besides the one thousand there are yet at least 
another thousand in existence. He now gives up his original 
idea of exhausting the subject, understands that it would be 
impossible in a lifetime, and comforts his conscience and 
pride with the reflection that he has done much, and that 
many of the works he has not seen, like many of those he 
has, are probably of very slight historic value ; indeed, it is 
most likely that long ere this he has allowed himself to glance 
superficially at some ponderous tome or large collection of 
miscellaneous pamphlets, almost persuading himself that they 
contain nothing for him. There are ten chances to one that 
he has not looked at one volume in twenty of the myriads of 
the United States government reports, though there is hardly 
one which does not contain something about California. It 
has never occurred to him seriously to explore the countless 
court records and legal briefs, so rich in historical data. He 
know^s that newspapers contain valuable matter ; he has even 
examined a partial file of the Californian^ and some early 
numbers of the Alia or Sacramento U?iio7t, but being a sane 
man he has never dreamed of an attack on the two hundred 
files of California newspapers even could he find them. He 
knows that each of these fields of research would require the 
labor of several years, and that all of them would fill the 
better part of his life with drudgery. 

Another trackless wilderness of information now opens 
before him. Our author has before this realized that there 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 333 

are sources of history other than those found in printed 
matter. He is surrounded by early settlers, whose combined 
recollections are the country's history in the main; he has 
talked with several of them, and obtained a few choice 
anecdotes and reminiscences to be utilized in his book ; he 
has no time to obtain the statements of many, and does not 
attempt it. He is aware of the desirabihty of original manu- 
script authorities; he eagerly deciphers a musty document 
procured by a friend who knows of his investigations; is 
delighted at the discovery of a small package of old papers 
at some mission, mysteriously handed out by the parish priest 
to furnish choice extracts for the author's note-book ; handles 
gingerly the limited archives of Santa Cruz ; obtains from 
the United States surveyor-general's office translations of a 
few documentary curiosities; tries to flatter himself that he 
has studied the archives of California, and is a happy man 
if he escapes being haunted by the four hundred huge folio 
volumes of manuscripts containing the very essence of the 
annals he seeks to write, yet which he knows he could not 
master in fifteen years of hard work. Perhaps he escapes the 
vision of the papers scattered over the state in private hands, 
enough to make up other hundreds of similar tomes. 

He now realizes yet more fully the utter impossibility of 
exhausting the material ; feels that the work he set himself 
to do has but fairly commenced, and can never be completed. 
Of course he does not feel called upon to make known to the 
public his comparative failure ; on the contrary, he makes 
the most of his authorities. His notes are brought out and 
arranged ; he has before him the testimony of several good 
witnesses on most of the prominent points of his subject; 
he has devoted twenty-five years of industrious research to 
his work; the book is finished and justly praised. 

This writer, whose investigations I have thus followed, is 
one of a thousand, with whom most of the men who have ac- 
tually written so-called histories of many nations and epochs 
are not worthy of comparison. He failed simply because he 
attempted the impossible. 



334 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Now the reader will permit me to trace my own course 
through a similar routine of investigation, pursued, however, 
by different methods. Like my imaginary friend, I was de- 
termined to write the history of California, and had almost 
as vague an idea as he of the task assumed. He purchased 
some books as tools with which to work, selecting such as 
were known to bear on his subject; I began ten years before 
I was ready to write, and bought through agents in all parts 
of the world every book that could be had concerning 
the Pacific States, thus obtaining twenty thousand volumes, 
sure to include, as I thought, all existing material about 
California. To search among my twenty thousand for two 
thousand on CaHfornia was a less formidable undertaking 
than for him to search the shelves of different libraries and 
catalogues for his five hundred volumes ; but it was too slow 
for my purposes, and from ten to fifteen men were employed 
to index the whole and furnish me a list of CaHfornia mate- 
rial with reference to volume and page. My imaginary au- 
thor plods industriously through each work as he finds it, 
making careful notes of such matter as he deems of value, 
while I put ten men at work, each as capable for this kind 
of labor as he or I, to extract everything under its proper 
heading. Like him, I am more and more astonished at the 
apparently never ending mass of material encountered, but I 
can see my way through it if only the treasury departmxent 
sustains me. So I tunnel the mountain of court records and 
legal briefs, bridge the marsh of United States government 
documents, and stationing myself at a safe distance in the 
rear, hurl my forces against the aohd columns of two hundred 
files of California newspapers. 

Like him, I see about me many living witnesses, and from 
several hundreds of them obtain, by aid of stenographers, as 
well as reporters, detailed statements respecting early times. 
I more than suspect the existence of important papers scat- 
tered in private hands, and proceed to buy, borrow, and beg, 
until the product fills a hundred volumes. The six hundred 
bulky tomes of public and mission archives rise up before me, 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 335 

but there is no such thing as retreat at this point of pro- 
cedure ; I have no fifteen years to spend in plodding through 
this pathless waste, but fifteen searchers reduce the time to 
one year, and the archives are transferred to my library. 
Meanwhile my note-takers continue their labors ; each vol- 
ume, pamphlet, manuscript, and newspaper is made to give 
up its evidence, little or much, on one point or many, and 
nothing is omitted or slighted. 

At last the preparatory work is ended, and the evidence on 
each specific point is laid before me, as my friend had his 
before him, but with this difference : I have practically all 
where he had only part — he hardly realized, perhaps, how 
small a part. He had two or three witnesses whose testi- 
mony he had selected as essential on a certain topic ; I have 
a hundred whose evidence is more or less relevant. From 
this point our progress lies practically in the same path, and 
the race is well-nigh run. Had he the same data as I, his 
results would be superior to mine if he were my superior as 
a thinker and as a writer. Our respective methods and 
systems have little or no influence in the matter, save per- 
haps that in my experience with many assistants I have 
been able to select a few to whom I can intrust the prepara- 
tion of systematized notes on special topics, and thus still 
further to shorten my labors. 

My work at last completed, I have been able to accom- 
plish thoroughly in fifteen years what my friend, quite as 
zealous, industrious, and able as myself, has done superficially 
in twenty-five years, and what he could not have done as 
thoroughly as myself in half a dozen lifetimes. And yet our 
respective methods differ after all in degree rather than in 
kind. I have done scarcely anything that he has not at- 
tempted. He has purchased books, studied books, handled 
newspapers, deciphered manuscripts, and questioned pioneers; 
I have simply done twenty times as much as he in each of these 
directions, much more easily and in much less time. 

I come now to consider the relative merits of the two 
methods, the desirabihty of applying business methods and 



336 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

division of labor to historical and scientific research. The 
advantages and the disadvantages, if any such there be, of such 
application should here be noted. I cla.im that mine is the 
only method by which all the evidence on a great subject or 
on many smaller subjects can be brought out. Without it 
the author must confine himself to limited topics or do his work 
superficially. To thus limiting himself there is no objection, 
as there can be none that I know of to the more ambitious 
plan of engaging help and doing more and better work. I 
can conceive of no case where it is not desirable for an in- 
vestigator to have before him all the evidence; though I 
have had some experience with critics who revere as an his- 
torian the man who writes from a study of twenty books 
giving patronizing credit to their authors, and more lightly 
esteem him who studies a thousand works, and chooses in his 
notes to leave standing the ladder by which he mounted. I 
have also met critics who apparently could not comprehend 
that a writer who refers to one thousand authorities does not 
necessarily use them mechanically, or allow a numerical 
majority to decide each point rather than internal evidence. 
But these objections serve only to show in a clearer light 
their own absurdity. 

An industrious author may in a reasonable time collect 
data and properly record the manners and customs of the 
Modoc tribe, the annals of Grass Valley, or the events of 
the Bear Flag revolution; and for the man who thus honestly 
toils to increase the store of human knowledge I have the 
greatest respect. But such a man could not by ordinary- 
methods write anything like a complete work on the aborig- 
ines of America, or even of Cahfornia, or on the history of 
the Pacific States ; and for the man who from an acquaintance 
with Iroquois manners and customs, with the reading of a 
few books on the North American aborigines, proceeds 
learnedly on the institutions and history of every tribe and 
nation from Alaska to Cape Horn, from the Crow reservation 
in 1875 back to the dwellers of the prehistoric Xibalba — for 
such a man I have not very much admiration to spare, even 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 337 

if some of his theories are plausible and ingeniously and elo- 
quently supported. Neither am I overburdened with respect 
for the soi-disant historians of California who can in the 
leisure hours of a few years and within the limits of five hun- 
dred pages record all that is worth knowing of the annals 
of our state; who before 1846 see nothing but the acts of a 
few padres and ^ greasers,' of which nobody cares to hear ; 
who glance vaguely and superficially at a few of the many 
phases of the subject they profess to treat. 

The great advantage claimed for my system of hterary 
work is, then, that it renders possible results otherwise un- 
attainable. I deem it desirable that the few to whom nature 
has given the capacity to derive their greatest enjoyment from 
the hard toil of literary and scientific research should be 
enabled to embrace in their efforts the broadest fields and 
accomplish the greatest results. 

On the other hand, this system of research involves a great 
pecuniary outlay. But this is a disadvantage which afiects 
only the author, and not his work, nor the appreciation of 
his readers. The same reply might be made as to the ob- 
jection that assistants cannot be found who will toil as care- 
fully and zealously as the employer; this is to a certain 
extent well taken, and I admit that on a limited subject 
which can be really mastered within a period, say, of five 
years, one man will produce better work than several, al- 
though experience has taught me that the application of 
varied talent, no two men treading in the same path, is not 
without its advantages. I have always encouraged among 
my assistants a free expression of their own ideas, and have 
derived the greatest benefit from frequent conversations and 
discussions with them on special topics. In long and com- 
plicated subjects to which my method is applicable, and 
v/hich cannot be successfully treated by any other, I am in- 
clined to regard the division of labor as an advantage in 
itself. I question if the mind which can plod for a long 
series of years through the necessary preliminary work is the 
mind properly constituted for the best use of the material 
22 



338 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

acquired; or whether the best abihty is not injured by long 
drudgery. 

The primary endeavor in all my historical writings has 
been to exhaust the subject, but presenting it always in as 
condensed a form as possible. In the text is given the infor- 
mation complete, the full narrative in the fewest words. 

It v/as ever my aim to tell the story clearly and concisely, 
taking a common-sense practical view of things, and arrang- 
ing them in natural sequence, giving an episode as much 
as possible in one place, even though in its relation to other 
episodes it overlapped a little. Analysis of character, as ap- 
plied to leading personages, I endeavored to make a feature, 
giving, with physical description, bent of mind and natural 
and acquired abihties. In cases where characteristics were 
not directly specified they might be arrived at from the acts 
of the individual. A little colloquy was deemed not ineffec- 
tive when short, terse, and in language appropriate to the 
persons and the time. A short story, pointedly given, is 
effective to enliven the text, but it must not be carelessly 
done. The notes were for reference to authorities, for proof, 
elucidation, discussion, illustration, balancing of evidence, 
and for second-class information. To this end quotations 
from authorities were deemed in order, not as repetitions, but 
as presenting the subject in its several shades and opposite 
positions. Though not illustrated, maps and plans were in- 
serted in both text and notes wherever needed. In regard 
to bibhography, it was my aim to give every important book 
and manuscript formal notice in the most suitable place ; the 
title to be given in full and in italic characters. The contents 
of the work were then briefly epitomized, after which a criti- 
cism and a biographical notice of the author were given. The 
biographies of leading historical characters were of course pre- 
sented in the text, these of themselves constituting history; 
though for want of space some may have been crowded into 
notes, where also were given those of the pioneers. 

Between the old method and the new there is about the 
same difference that would arise in any undertaking by a 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 339 

practical man of business and by one who was purely a 
philosopher or student. Elsewhere in this volume I have 
drawn certain comparisons between the industrial hfe and 
the intellectual life. I desire here to speak more particularly 
of the effects of a business and a collegiate course on literary 
labors, the difference produced by these two species of train- 
ing, and the effects upon my historical efforts of my former 
business experience. 

In business and literature, while there is much in harmony 
there is also much that is directly antagonistic. Some of the 
elements essential to success are alike in both, but the train- 
ing suitable for one is not the best for the other. There are 
certain qualities equally beneficial in both. Honesty, intelli- 
gence, application, and the Jike are as valuable to the pro- 
fessional man as to the business man, and not more so ; just 
as blood, endurance, reliability, are as valuable qualities in 
the draught-horse as in the race-horse; the training, how- 
ever, would be quite different in the two cases. Obviously 
the course pursued in fitting a horse for the turf unfits the 
animal for the cart. 

I never imagined the difference between the effects of a 
college and business training to be so pronounced in the 
training of young men destined to their different pursuits 
until I was brought into immediate and daily contact with 
two distinct sets of assistants, directing both, and part of the 
time under the same roof. The business I had planted ; all 
its growth and branchings I had directed, engaging and 
overseeing all those employed in it. This represented one 
part of me, and of my life. My literary work I had con- 
ceived, planned, and was then performing, with the full 
direction of every one engaged in it. This represented an- 
other part of me, of my nature, my aspirations, and my life. 

A young man or an old man applies to me for a situation. 
He may be suitable for the business and not for the library ; 
nay, if he is specially fitted for one he is probably not suitable 
for the other. My first questions are : What did you last ? 
What have you been doing all your Hfe ? What are your 
aspirations ? 



340 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

If the applicant's time hitherto has been spent as salesman 
or book-keeper in a mercantile or manufacturing establish- 
ment ; if his mind be of the color of money, and his chief 
desires and tastes He in the direction of buying, and selling, 
and getting gain, he is worth nothing to me in the library. 
On the other hand, if he be scholarly in his tastes, of medi- 
tative, intellectual habits, careless of money, preferring the 
merchandise of mind to the accumulations of the warehouse ; 
if he be sensitive, diffident, and retiring, inexperienced in 
business, with parents and friends intellectually inclined, hav- 
ing spent his whole life at study, having acquired a good col- 
legiate education, and being still ambitious to acquire more, 
I should never think of placing such a man in the bustle of 
business. It would be no less distasteful to him than un- 
profitable to both of us. 

The youth's training and experience while in a store are 
invaluable to him if he means to become a merchant. It is 
time lost, and often worse than lost, if the intellectual Ufe be 
his future field. The activities of business call into play such 
totally different qualities of mind, drawing it from its content 
in quiet, thoughtful study, and stirring it to the strife and 
passion of acquisition, that it is in some respects, but not in 
all, a positive detriment to intellectual pursuits. On the other 
hand, study and the thoughtful investigation which should 
follow it are too apt to engender sensitive, sedentary habits 
and a distaste for the activities of business. As Herbert 
Spencer puts it : " Faculty of every kind tends always to 
adjust itself to its work. Special adjustment to one kind of 
work involves more or less non-adjustment to other kinds." 

In my own case, however, beginning with literature late in 
life and studying after my own peculiar method, I found 
my business experience of the greatest advantage. Before I 
had been engaged in my historical labors for five years I 
found my new v/ork broadly planned and fairly systematized. 
Accustomed to utilize the labors of others, I found no diffi- 
culty in directing a small army of workers here. I found, 
fastened upon me as part of my nature, habits of application 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 34 1 

and perseverance from which I could not tear myself if I 
would. I was, so to speak, wound up to work, and so wound 
that the running down should be with the last tick of time. 

Moreover, I found myself as free as might be from preju- 
dices, though this, I believe, is the opinion of the wildest 
fanaticism concerning itself; free from sectarianism and party 
bias, and from the whole catalogue of isms, some of which 
are apt to fasten themselves on immature minds and there 
remain through life. I found myself with no cause to battle 
for, no preconceived rights to vindicate or wrongs to avenge, 
no so-called belief to establish, no special politics to plead. 
I had no aim or interest to present aught but the truth ; and 
I cared little what truth should prove to be when found, or 
whether it agreed with my conceptions of what it was or 
ought to be. I would as willingly have found the moon in 
the bottom of the well, were it really there, as in the heavens, 
where we have always supposed it to be. It was as though 
I had been born into the world of letters a full-grown man. 

He who accumulates facts seldom generalizes them, because 
no one man has the time and the ability to do both to any 
great extent. Herbert Spencer could have made little prog- 
ress weaving his vast and sparkling theories had he not pos- 
sessed a good store of raw material before he began them. 
Then again, general speculations spring from habits of 
thought different from those that regulate the mind-machinery 
of scientific specialists. Yet the spirit of business activity 
may be infused into the meditations of mind. The ethics of 
commerce are not fully appreciated by the student of litera- 
ture, of law, of divinity. There are in the commercial life 
more influences at work to form habit, character, opinion, 
than in almost any other sphere of action. In looking back 
upon the past the success of my historical undertakings de- 
pended no less on business experience than on such literary 
ability as I might possess. 

A word with regard to retiring from business. It is well 
enough understood at this day that he who suddenly ex- 



342 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

changes life-long, active occupation for idle, indolent leisure 
seldom finds satisfaction therein. It is only the constitution- 
ally lazy man, he who has never done anything, that enjoys 
doing nothing. If the commercial man has a cultivated 
intellect, he has an unfailing resource within himself. But 
this is not often the case : a man of refined and cultivated 
literary tastes is seldom a great commercial man. " The ten- 
dency of modern business life," says Doctor Beard, " for one 
who succeeds in it, is to repress whatever of poetry, or science, 
or art there may be in the brain." Yet absolute retirement 
from an active and successful business life which he loves, 
even to a purely intellectual life which he loves better, may 
not be always the best a man can do. The strains of study 
and writing are so severe upon the nerves that at times 
business may be recreation — that is, if the business is well 
systematized and successful, with plenty to do, with plenty of 
capital, and without haste, anxiety, or worry. 

At all events I never could wholly retire from business, 
although at times its duties were extremely distasteful and its 
cares crushing. Some of the happiest associations, some of 
the warmest friendships, have sprung from my commercial 
life; and they never left me, but ripened into sweeter fra- 
grance as age crept on apace. Kenny, Colley, Borland, and 
my nephew Will, Welch and Mitchell, Maison and Peterson, 
and all the rest of the little army I used to general with such 
satisfaction, not only were you diligent and loyal to the 
business, but you were among those I was ever proud to call 
my friends ! In the midst of the severest literary labors, as 
I have before mentioned, I have voluntarily taken sole charge 
of the business when it was largest and most intricate, for 
months and years at a time, increasing its capabilities and 
profits with as little efibrt as that employed by the skillful 
engineer in adding to the force of his machinery ; and I 
believe I derived only pleasure and benefit from it. It was 
a relief to my tired brain to step from the library to the office 
and in a few moments shape the next month's affairs; it was 
a rehef to fingers stiff* from writing history to sign checks 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 343 

awhile. Nor is this any contradiction to what I earUer re- 
marked about interruptions when deep in Hterary labors. A 
man can do much if left to do it his own way. 

To return to our subject. Besides the regular subject-mat- 
ter or historical notes, which were largely taken out by my 
assistants, there was another class of notes, allusory and illus- 
trative, which I was obliged to take out for myself, in order 
to obtain satisfactory material for use. I have found these 
notes exceedingly serviceable. They were made during oc- 
casional general readings of from a week to three months in 
duration. So long as I could write steadily I had neither 
time nor taste for miscellaneous reading ; but feeling that a 
writer could never have too much familiarity with history 
and classical literature, whenever I could do nothing else 
I read vigorously in that direction, taking notes and record- 
ing my ov/n ideas. The substantial facts of history are fixed 
and determined. When the object is to present them all 
as they are, without theoretical bias or class prejudice, with 
no desire to elevate this person, sect, or party, or to hu- 
mihate or debase another, there is something about the 
work definite, tangible, and common to all minds. But notes 
for purposes of proof, illustration, or garnishment, such as 
Buckle presents in his Coiiunonplace Book — though there 
indeed are notes of every class indiscriminately thrown to- 
gether — must be abstracted by the person using them, as no 
two minds think exactly in the same channel ; nor would one 
person undertaking to use notes of this kind made by another 
be able even to understand in many instances their signifi- 
cance or relevancy. 

With the notes for a volume all arranged, and the plan of 
the work clearly defined in my mind, the writing was com- 
paratively rapid. While the writing was actually in progress 
I avoided as much as possible all outside reading. 

But at the completion of every one or two of my written 
volumes, I ran through some fifty or a hundred books which 
I had laid aside to read as my eye had fallen upon them from 



344 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

time to time, taking notes and memoranda applicable both 
to what I had written and to what I had yet to write. Jean 
Paul Richter was exceedingly careful to preserve all his 
thoughts. " He was as thought-thrifty and thought-storing," 
says one, " as he was thought- wealthy." Had the time been 
at my disposal I should have been a great devourer of books, 
for I scarcely ever could pass a book without looking at it, or 
look at a book without wanting to read it. 

" I have long had it in my mind to speak to you upon the 
subject of which this letter treats," writes Mr. Harcourt to 
me the 4th of April, 1877, at White Sulphur springs. "You 
have made literature your profession, and have already at- 
tained a position in the world of letters which the vast 
majority of those who have grown gray-headed and worm- 
eaten in the cause have failed to reach. This notable success 
is partly owing to the wise and far-sighted system you have 
adopted of leaving to others the drudgery that is inseparable 
from literary labor, and thereby keeping your own energies 
fresh for the part that is expected of you. You have carried 
the progressive spirit of the age into a quarter where it is 
least expected to be found, for you have applied machinery 
to literature, and have almost done for book-writing what 
the printing-press did for book dissemination. It is true that 
few men of literary tastes — for is it not written that they 
are all miserably poor? — are in a position to avail them- 
selves of your system, and I know of no one but yourself to 
whom the suggestion I am about to make, which is simply 
an extension of that system, would be practicable. 

" It is of course well known to you that notes of a general 
character are indispensable to every writer. Their impor- 
tance and value cannot be overestimated. They are abso- 
lutely requisite for the attainment of both brilliancy and 
accuracy. What makes a man's pages sparkle so brightly as 
a judicious and appropriate use of those ^jewels five words 
long which on the stretched forefinger of all time sparkle 
forever ' ? They serve to show the breadth of his reading — 
a most laudable vanity, I think, if kept within bounds — they 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 345 

inspire respect in the reader, they say things for him that the 
writer could but indifferently express in his own words, and 
by obHterating the obnoxious ego for a moment they stamp 
his work with the mark of authority. But I am sure that you 
appreciate their value and desirability. Yet how is it possible 
to have them at hand without the use of notes ? A man can- 
not carry in his head all the books he has read; neither, 
though he has them all by heart, will the passages and facts 
which he most admires or which are most appropriate to his 
present purpose occur to him when he needs them most. 
The prejudice which exists against a commonplace book in 
the minds of many who are not writers is absurd in the ex- 
treme. What author of eminence has been without one ? It 
is true that quotations and allusions as they crop out in the 
pages do and should appear to have occurred to the writer 
on the spur of the moment; but that they were in reahty 
carefully drawn from his v/ritten archives and not from the 
calls of a superhuman memory is a compliment to his industry 
and no slur upon his learning. 

" You will think me fearfully long-winded, I know, but I 
come straight to business when I state that I should like to 
take general notes of this kind for you, and what I have said 
was merely to show, first, that my taking them out for you 
would be perfectly in accordance with your viev/s of the way 
in which such work must be done, and second, that such 
notes should be in your possession. 

" I have, of course, no doubt that you have already a large 
collection of your own; but one can never have too many, 
or even enough of them, and I think that I might materially 
assist you. To keep himself up with the literature of the day 
is about all that a man can attend to in these times, and he 
has little leisure for taking the back-track among the brain- 
work of the past." 

Few persons were better quahfied for this work than Mr. 
Harcourt. No one possessed finer literary tastes than he; 
no one's reading was of a wider range than his. And yet 
for him to accomplish this labor for me I deemed impracti- 



346 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

cable. For his own use his notes would be invaluable, but I 
might almost as well draw my notes of illustration from 
cyclopaedias and quotation dictionaries already in use as to 
have Mr. Harcourt make a collection specially for me. His 
would be on the whole better, unquestionably, since I could 
direct him what categories to draw from, and in what form 
to write them out ; but, after all, the fact would remain that 
they were quotations, either literal or in essence, and in their 
original conjunctions they were worth far more to me. More- 
over, there was too much of sham in the proposition. 

After all that may be said of inventions and systems, or 
even of ability, work, work v/as ever my chief dependence. 
That which we call genius, not that I ever laid claim to it, 
is often nothing else than the natural growth of organs and 
faculties which of necessity grow by their use. All produc- 
tions are the result of labor, physical or mental, applied to nat- 
ural objects. Says Sainte-Beuve of the labor expended in writ- 
ing his inimitable Causeries du Liindi^ or Monday-Chats : " I 
descend on Tuesday into a well, from which I emerge only on 
Sunday.'^ It is no small task even to edit another man's work, 
if it be done thoroughly and conscientiously. John Stuart 
Mill, in editing Bentham's Rationale of Judicial Evidence^ 
was obliged to condense three masses of manuscript, begun 
at three several times, into a single treatise ; he was likewise 
to supply any omissions of Mr. Bentham, and to that end 
read several treatises on the law of evidence. 

Intellectually, as well as physically, the rule holds good 
that he who will not work, neither shall he eat. To the rich, 
therefore, as to the poor, this rule applies, and with greater 
intensity it rivets the rich man's bonds. The most worthless 
of us, if poor enough, are hammered by necessity into some- 
thing useful, even as the cooper hammers the leaky barrel. 

The work of man is distinguished from that of beasts in 
that it has intelligence. Strictly speaking, there is no such 
thing as purely manual labor. All human labor is partly 
physical and partly mental ; as we descend the scale the phy- 
sical element increases and the mental decreases. 



MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY. 347 

It is only the ruder forms of labor that bring immediate 
returns ; the more complex productions of the mind are of 
slower ripening. In the earlier stages of progress muscu- 
lar exertion is depended upon almost entirely for supplying 
the wants of mankind. But as the mind acquires strength 
and experience, natural agents, the falling water, wind, heat, 
and electricity, are harnessed to mechanical contrivances and 
made to do duty as labor-saving machines. 

Nature abhors immobihty. Motion is the nonnal condi- 
tion of man as well as of matter. Society is but a stream, 
ever seeking its level, ever flowing on toward the ocean of 
eternity. And who wonders that some men should believe 
that on reaching this ocean beyond the shores of time the 
souls of men are beaten up by the universal sun into new 
forms of existence, even as the sun of our little system beats 
the waters of the ocean into cloudy vapor? This is the 
central idea round which revolves all thought, the central 
force from which radiate all energies, the germ of all develop- 
ment, the clearest lesson thrown by nature upon the dark 
economy of Providence, that in labor and sorrow are rest 
and happiness, that in decay there is growth, in the dust of 
death the .budding flowers of immortality. 

Experience alone must be the teacher of those who strike 
out into new paths; meanwhile old ways must satisfy the 
more conservative. Learning from experience is a different 
thing from learning by experience. All the wealth of Russia 
could not teach Peter the Great how to build a ship ; but a 
day-laborer in a Dutch dock-yard could reveal to him the 
mystery, and speedily it unfolded within him. 

Before genius is application. The mind must be fertilized 
by knowledge and made prolific by industry. With all the 
marvellous energetic training of his son, which alone made 
him the man he was, the father of John Stuart Mill failed 
to implant in him practical energy. He made him know 
rather than do. Many men there have been of great capa- 
bilities and zeal who have expended their energies on energy 
alone ; that is to say, they were ready enough to begin a 



34^ LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

great task, and would begin many such, and labor at them 
with brave conscientiousness ; but so high was their standard 
and so keen the sense of their own imperfections, that after 
a lifetime of futile study and elaboration they sank beneath 
the burden, the child of their excessive labor being stillborn 
and never seeing the light. 

Surely each of us may do something ; may leave a bequest 
at least as beneficial to our race as that of Hierocles, joke- 
compiler of the fifth century, who after the arduous labors of 
a lifetime left to the world a legacy of twenty- one jokes which 
he had collected. And if they were good jokes he might 
have done worse; like many another of more pretentious 
wisdom, he might have died and left no joke at all. For, 
as Goethe says : 

" Soil doch nicht als ein Pilz der Menscli dem Boden entwachsen, 
Und verfaulen geschwind an dem Platze, der ihn erzeugt hat, 
Keine Spur nachlassend von seiner lebendigen Wirkung !" 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 

Das Wenige verscliwindet leicht clem Blicke, 
Der vorwarts sieht, wie viel noch librig bleibt. 

— Goethe. 

WITH Goethe I might truly say at this juncture that the 
Kttle I had done seemed nothing when I looked forward 
and saw how much there remained to be done. Whatever 
else I had in hand, never for a moment did I lose sight of 
the important work of collecting. Moved by the increasing 
importance given to facts and points of detail in the inductive, 
moral, and physical science of the age, I regarded with deep 
longing the reach of territory marked out, where so much 
loss and destruction were going on, and at such a rapid rate. 
My desires were insatiable. So thoroughly did I realize how 
ripe was the harvest and how few the laborers, how rapidly 
was slipping from mortal grasp golden opportunity, that I 
rested neither day nor night, but sought to secure, from those 
thus passing away, all within my power to save before it was 
too late. With the history of the coast ever before me as the 
grandest of unaccomplished ideas, I gathered day by day all 
scraps of information upon which I could lay my hands. 

Among my earliest attempts to secure original documents 
from original sources was the sending of Bosquetti to San 
Jose and Sacramento in 1869, as previously related. Long 
before this, however, while collecting information for the sta- 
tistical works issued by the firm, I had secured a little material 
of a local character, but nothing of a very important nature. 

The conception first assumed more definite form in the 
brief sketches of notable pioneers, or of any one at all who 

349 



350 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

had come to the country before 1849; indeed, at the time of 
beginning my work the popular idea of a history of CaHfor- 
nia dated in reaUty from the coming of the Americans. All 
before that was shadowy, if not, indeed, mythologic. At all 
events it was generally supposed to be something no one knew 
much about, and the little that could be ascertained was not 
worth the writing or the reading. The hijos del pais were 
regarded as being nothing, as having done nothing, as being 
able to communicate nothing, and would not tell of them- 
selves or of the past if they could; so that at this period of 
my investigations a white man who had come to the country 
in 1846 or in 1848 was a magazine of historical information. 

No inconsiderable results attended these efforts even at an 
early day. Quite a number of pioneers responded to appeals 
made them by letter, and sent in their written statements. 
Some called at the library and gave in their testimony there. 
Up through Napa valley, into the Lake country, and back 
by Cloverdale and Santa Rosa, I made a hasty trip in 187 1. 
About this time I engaged Mr. Montgomery, editor of a 
Napa newspaper, to furnish some sketches from original 
sources of the experiences of early settlers. From the secre- 
tary of the society of California pioneers I obtained the names 
of those whose adventures were deemed worthy of record, 
and sent men to take their statements. " There should be a 
chronicle kept," says Doctor Johnson, " in every considerable 
family, to preserve the characters and transactions of succes- 
sive generations." 

At Sacramento, at Salt Lake City, and elsewhere in my 
travels about the Pacific coast, I made additions from time to 
time to this very valuable part of my collection. Some of 
the efforts and expeditions made by me and by my assistants 
in search of historical data I give in this volume, but thrice 
as much must remain untold. 

Long before I made my journey to the north, where I re- 
ceived such a warm reception and such cordial aid in every 
quarter, I received from the author, the Honorable Elwood 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 35 1 

Evans of Olympia, early in 1873, his manuscript history of 
Oregon and the great northwest, with permission to copy 
the same, and to use it at my discretion. Mr. Evans was 
a highly talented member of the bar, a ripe scholar, a grace- 
ful writer, and a man thoroughly famihar with the history of 
those parts, where indeed he had resided for most of his life. 
His history had been carefully written, and had many tim.es 
undergone critical revision by those who had taken part in the 
development of the country; for example, by Sir James Doug- 
las and W. F. Tolmie, of Victoria, touching the operations of 
the Hudson's Bay company, of which those gentlemen were 
chief officers for a quarter of a century or more. I need not 
say that this manuscript was of the greatest value to me in 
writing the History of the Northwest Coast ^ or that Mr. Evans 
is entitled, aside from my heart-felt thanks, to the highest 
praise for his singular and disinterested magnanimity in per- 
mitting me to copy and use so important a manuscript, 
which he had written for publication. A stranger to Mr. 
Evans might regard his conduct as peculiar, but one ac- 
quainted with him would not. Years before I had any 
thought of writing history I had known him, and had held 
him in high esteem. Far above all comm.onplace or personal 
views of what affected the general good, his mind, to me, 
seemed cast in other than ordinary mould. At all events I 
was impressed by Mr. Evans as by one dwelling in an atmos- 
phere of ethereal high-mindedness such as few of his fellows 
could understand, much less attain to. 

Mr. James G. Swan of Port Townsend, author of The 
Northwest Coast, made the subject of the coast tribes a special 
study for some twenty years. '' I find a deal of error,'* he 
writes me the 2 2d of February, 1875, " in the accounts of the 
early voyagers, particularly in their speculative theories in re- 
lation to the natives; nor is this surprising when we reflect 
that at that early day the whites and Indians did not under- 
stand each other, but conversed mostly by signs and panto- 
mime. None of these early voyagers remained at any one 
place long enough to acquire the native language ; hence we 



352 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

find so much of error. Even most modern writers have passed 
over this region rapidly, and have jotted down their ideas 
without knowing or caring whether they were correct or not." 
Mr. Stephen Powers gave me the use of a valuable unpub- 
lished manuscript on the manners and customs of certain 
native Californian tribes among which he had spent much 
time. 

For material for the history of Alaska I applied in 1874 by 
letter to the Russian consul in San Francisco, Martin Klink- 
ofstrom, who forwarded my communication to the academy 
of sciences in St. Petersburg. It happened at this time that 
my friend Alphonse Pinart, the distinguished Americaniste 
who had published several works on the Pacific coast, more 
particularly of an ethnological and linguistic character, was 
pursuing his investigations in St. Petersburg, and to him the 
consul's letter was referred. Monsieur A. Schiefner, mem- 
ber of the academy, writing the 6th of June, 1875, says: "Si 
vous trouverez que I'academie vous pourra etre utile comme 
intermediaire elle sera toujours a vos services." 

M. Pinart had been engaged for two years past in collecting 
material on the early settlement of the Russians on Bering 
sea and the northwest coast, and on the establishment and 
abandonment by the Russians of Fort Ross, in California. 
For this purpose he had visited Alaska, searched France and 
Germany, and was now in St. Petersburg. Writing from that 
city the 6th of February, 1875, he offers to place at my free 
disposition all such books and documents as he had found 
upon the subject. Indeed, he was officially notified so to do 
by M. Schiefner, to whom my best thanks are due, and who 
granted M. Pinart every faciUty, both on his own account 
and mine. 

M. Pinart concludes his letter as follows: "I must tell 
you that the archives of Russia are very poor in documents 
relating to Russian America, they having been in some way 
destroyed. I was able to put my hand only on very few of 
them. Most of the notices relating to the colonies are printed 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 353 

in papers or reviews, some of them exceedingly difficult to 
find." Pinart was to be in San Francisco the following 
autumn, and was to bring with him ail his material. This 
he did, adding rich treasures to my library. Of such books 
and manuscripts as he had in duplicate, I took one ; the rest 
were copied in full in a translation made for me by Mr. Ivan 
Petroff. 

In 1870-2 M. Pinart visited Alaska, and acquired a knowl- 
edge of the languages and customs of the Aleut and Kolosh 
nations. Returning to Europe in 1872 he was awarded the 
gold medal of the French geographical society for his explo- 
rations on the northwest coast of America. Afterward he 
spent much time within the territory of the Pacific states, liv- 
ing with the aborigines, in order to study their character and 
languages. During 1874-6 he was in Arizona, Sonora, Utah, 
Idaho, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and the South 
Sea islands. 

In 1873 he purchased a portion of the library of Brasseur 
de Bourbourg, and after the death of the abbe, in January, 
1874, the rest of his books and manuscripts fell into the hands 
of M. Pinart. To all of these he most generously gave me 
free access, and, further to facilitate my labors, boxed such 
portions of them as I required for my history and sent them 
to my library. After I had used them, they were returned 
to Marquise, where his collection was kept. 

To Innokentie, metropolitan of Moscow, lohan Venia- 
minof, Russian missionary to the Aleuts, to Admiral Lutke, 
and to Etholen, formerly governor of the Russian- American 
possessions, I am likewise indebted for favors. 

At an early date in these annals I placed myself in corre- 
spondence with the heads of governments lying within the 
territory whose history and literature I sought to serve. In 
every instance my overtures met with a warm response. 
The presidents of the Mexican and Central American repub- 
lics, and all governors of states to whom I deemed it advis- 
able to explain the character of my work, replied by offering 
23 



354 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

me every facility at their command. My object in this cor- 
respondence had a much broader significance than the out- 
pouring of compHments. As this was some time previous to 
my acquisition of the valuable works from the collection of 
E. G. Squier, I had felt the lack of Central American mate- 
rial more than of any other kind. In writing the first vol- 
umes of my history, while I had abundance of material for a 
history of the conquest of Mexico, I found myself in the 
possession of less bearing upon the history of the conquest 
of the more southern parts ; and of further material for mod- 
em history I was also in need. I therefore directed Cerruti 
to make energetic appeals to the supreme authorities of these 
extreme southern states of my territory, and to explain the 
object, progress, and importance of the work. Indeed, I 
asked no great favors, nothing but access to their historic 
archives. 

Despite the partisan strife which had thrown the Central 
American states into disorder, it gave me much pleasure to 
find that my efforts to establish a history of the indigenous 
and imported races, aboriginal, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon, of 
western North America, would receive the support of these 
governments. It was here that aboriginal civilization had 
attained its fullest proportions, and it was here that the Euro- 
pean first placed foot on North American soil. These states 
were stepping-stones, as it were, to the history of the more 
northern countries. Here begins our history proper. Replete 
are the early chronicles with the doings of the conquistador es 
in this region; and although their prominence is no longer 
what it once was, although history had troubled itself httle 
of late with their petty conflicts, yet they had followed in the 
wake of progress, and they now displayed a commendable 
interest in the historical Hterature of their country. Some 
went much further than this, even so far as to appoint com- 
missioners to obtain and forward me material. This did the 
presidents of Salvador and Nicaragua. Gonzalez, president 
of the former republic, in his letter of the 2 2d of August, 
1874, speaks with regret of the disregard shown in Europe 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 355 

for the history of Central America, and the consequent igno- 
rance of Europeans as to the real importance of that magni- 
ficent country. He is profuse in his appreciation of my 
efforts in that direction. " La simple enunciacion del nombre 
del libro que U. prepara," he writes, " seria bastante para in- 
teresar en su favor a todo buen Americano " ; and as such 
a one he proffers his services. M. Brioso, minister of foreign 
relations, seemed to share the president's feelings. " Los 
hombres de saber," he writes the 26th of May, " los hombres 
de pensamiento, los hombres de Estado han saludado con en- 
tusiasmo su primera entrega." 

No less appreciative was his excellency the president of 
Nicaragua, Vicente Cuadra. Writing to Cerruti from Mana- 
gua, the 12th of December, 1874, he says: " Tengo la sat- 
isfaccion de decirle que el comisionado del Gobierno, Senor 
don Carlos Selva, para reunir i remitir a U. documentos re- 
latives a Nicaragua cumple fiel i activamente su comision, y 
que ha hecho ya algunas remesas que deseo sean utiles al 
ilustrado Bancroft." I found that civil war had unfortunately 
swept the country of many of its archives. " Siento verda- 
deramente," says President Cuadra, " que los archivos de este 
pais hayan sido destruidos 6 deteriorados a consecuencia de 
las vicisitudes." 

Under date of September 22, 1874, the commissioner 
Carlos Selva wrote Cerruti that he had already begun the 
collecting of documents for the history of Nicaragua, and 
flattered himself that he should be able to accumulate a num- 
ber sufficient to enable me to write the history of that country 
at least from the date of Central American independence. 
At the same time the commissioner shipped a quantity of 
documents relating not only to Nicaragua but to her sister 
republics. Nor did his kindness stop there : for years there- 
after he was alive to my wants, not only as regarded manu- 
scripts and original documents, but printed journals and 
bound books. The Nicaraguan secretary of foreign relations, 
A. M. Rivas, writes the 2d of November that private individ- 
uals as well as the public authorities were responding in the most 



356 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

satisfactory manner to the appeal made by the government 
for historical data for my use. The secretary hoped the doc- 
uments already sent had safely arrived ; and regretted the loss 
of a great part of the archives of the repubhc, destroyed when 
in 1856 Granada was burned by the filibusters. 

The nth of December Vicente Cuadra in an autograph 
letter expresses the great interest he takes personally as well 
as officially in my literary efforts, and his satisfaction in know- 
ing that the commissioner appointed by him was most active in 
the discharge of his duties. 

In an autograph letter dated Guatemala the 4th of De- 
cember, 1874, his excellency J. Rufino Barrios, president of 
the republic, appeared keenly alive to the importance of the 
work, and desired detailed information regarding the kind of 
material sought, in order that he might the more under- 
standingly cooperate. On receiving my reply, he went to 
work with a zeal second to that of none of his neighbors. 
Thus it appears that the republics of Central America are 
not one whit behind the other nations of the world in their 
interest and zeal in securing a proper record of the annals of 
their country. 

One afternoon in May, 1874, Father Fitzsimons, an intelli- 
gent and charitable member of the order of St. Dominic, 
called at the library and informed me that the priests of his 
order lately exiled from Central America had in many in- 
stances, in order to prevent their valuable libraries from 
faUing into the hands of the government, delivered them to 
the natives to be hidden until they should call for them ; and 
to strangers these custodians would undoubtedly deny the 
existence of any such books. The superior of the order, 
Father Villarasa, who resided at Benicia, being in corre- 
spondence with many of the Central American priests who 
were then returning from their la^e exile, kindly interested 
himself to procure for me through an authorized agent mate- 
rial for history from that source. 

Soon after the war in Mexico, which grew out of the 
French intervention. General Placido Vega, commander 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 357 

under Juarez, brought or sent to San Francisco for safe-keep- 
ing two boxes of documents. One was deposited with the 
CaUfornia trust company and the other in the Vallejo bank, 
both being subject to charges at the rate of two dollars a 
month. 

The boxes were deposited in the name of General Vallejo 
in 1872, and for three years thereafter nothing was heard in 
California from Vega. As there was little probability that the 
packages would ever be called for, General Vallejo sent to 
the library the box which was at the Vallejo bank, with an 
order for the one at the trust company's. I was to pay 
the charges and hold the documents for a reasonable time 
subject to Vega's order, in case they were ever called for. 
Should Vega never demand the boxes the contents would 
be mine. 

" I have opened one of the boxes," writes Cerruti the nth 
of May, 1875, "^'^d found it filled with very important his- 
torical letters. Mr. Savage, who assisted me in the inspec- 
tion, leans to the belief that they ought to be copied. But I 
entertain a different view, because, the box being in debt four 
hundred dollars" — this was Cerruti's characteristic way of 
writing one hundred and forty-four dollars, that being the 
amount due on both the boxes up to this date — " I do not 
think it likely that the relatives of General Vega will ever 
claim it. I believe, however, that an index would not be out 
of place, for it would facilitate the labor of the historian." 

General Vega had taken a prominent part in the public 
affairs of Mexico. He was intrusted by Juarez with impor- 
tant commissions. These boxes of official and private corre- 
spondence, accounts, etc., which were of no small consequence 
to the history of that period, were never called for. 

Between the years 1876 and 1880, with official permission 
obtained through the efforts of General Vallejo while on a 
visit to Mexico in company with his son-in-law, Frisbie, I 
had copies made of some of the more important manuscripts 
lodged in the government archives of the city of Mexico. 



3S8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

This work was superintended by my friend Ellis Read, to 
whom I tender thanks. 

A representative from the law department of the business 
attempted in 1881 to obtain legislative sanction to transfer 
the archives of New Mexico for a time to my library. They 
were in a deplorable condition, and I offered, if this were done, 
to collate and bind them at my own cost. The proposal faihng, 
I was obliged to go thither and have extracted such informa- 
tion as I required. 

Before the visit of Dom Pedro de Alcantara, emperor of 
Brazil, to San Francisco, I had sent an inquiry through the 
Italian consul to the imperial library at Rio Janeiro concern- 
ing documents for Central American history. When the em- 
peror was in San Francisco in 1876 he several times visited 
my library, seemed to be much interested in the work, and 
promised me every assistance in his power. 

Another word as to Mr. Squier and his collection. E. 
G. Squier was appointed in 1849 charge d'affaires for Gua- 
temala. He organized a company for constructing an 
inter-oceanic railway through Honduras, and assisted in 
surveying a route in 1853. In 1868 he acted for a time as 
United States consul-general to Honduras. Besides his Nica- 
ragua^ Serpe7it Symbol^ Notes on Central America^ Waikna, 
and HojiduraSy he published several minor works. 

Squier's collection bore the same relation to Central 
America that Senor Andrade's did to Mexico. It v/as by 
far the best in existence, better than he himself could again 
make even if he had twenty years more in which to attempt 
it. Most fortunate was this sale for me, for it enabled me to 
strengthen my library at its weakest point. I had found it 
very difficult to gather more than the few current works on 
this part of my territory ; and now were poured into my lap 
in one magnificent shower treasures which I had never 
dared to expect. By this purchase I added to the library 
about six hundred volumes, but the number was not com- 
mensurate with the rarity and value of the works. 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 359 

It was owing to the death of Mr. Squier that his collection 
was sold. It consisted of over two thousand books, sets of 
pamphlets, maps, and manuscripts. 

By this purchase I secured, among other things, a series of 
bound manuscripts of sixteenth-century documents copied 
from the Spanish libraries, such as Ddvila — reports by this 
renowned conquistador and comrades from 1519 to 1524 on 
matters relating to the conquest of Panama and Nicaragua; 
Cerezeda — letters of 1529-1533 on Nicaragua and Hon- 
duras affairs; Grijalva^ Relacio7i de la Jornada^ ^^ZZ^ to the 
South Sea; Pedro de Alvarado — letters, 1533 to 1541, on 
the conquest of Guatemala and the projected maritime ex- 
pedition ; Andagoya — letters on a Panama canal to connect 
the two oceans; Central America — a collection of letters 
and reports, 1545 to 1555; beside which there was a large 
number of similar documents, bound under various names, 
and belonging to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 

Then there was a large set relating to a more northern dis- 
trict, entitled Materiales para la Historia de So?iora^ contain- 
ing letters and reports from friars and officials copied from the 
Mexican archives, such as Ziirita^ Bi'eve y Simiaria Relacion^ 
1554, Descripcio7i de la America^ 1 701-10, and others. 

The most noteworthy among the printed works from the 
Squier collection were Leon Finelo, Trato de Co7ifirmaciones 
Reales de Encomiendas^ Madrid, 1630, bearing on the en- 
comieiida system of New Spain ; Relacion sobre . . . Lacandon^ 
1638, by the same author, together with Villaquiran's ap- 
pointment as governor there, 1639, a very rare and unique 
copy, treating of a journey which created great excitement 
at the time ; Gernelli Carreri^ Giro del Mo?tdo, part vi., Napoli, 
172 1, being a record of his observations in New Spain; 
Vasqiiez^ Chronica de la Provincia . . , de Guatemala, Guate- 
mala, 1 7 14, tom. i., a rare work ; Juarros, Co??zpe7idio de la His- 
toria de la Guatemala, Guatemala, 1808-18, in two volumes, 
indispensable to the history of the state ; Robles, Me77ioiras 
para la Historia de Chiapa, Cadiz, 1813; Pelaez, Me77iorias 
para la Historia del Antigua Guate77iala, in three volumes. 



360 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

In addition to the above were many important works which 
I cannot enumerate, bearing on history, colonization, poUtics, 
and exploration, and narratives of travel and residence, in 
English, Spanish, French, German, and Italian, and several 
volumes of Central American newspapers. 

During the winter of 188 1-2 some valuable material was se- 
cured and sent to the library by my agents in various parts 
of the world, as well as by government officials in Washihg- 
ton, Mexico, Central America, and Canada. 

At the Hawaiian islands was Samuel E. Damon, one always 
interested in historical research, who sent m.e files of the Friend^ 
the Polynesia?!^ and the JVews, containing information since 
1836 on Oregon and California, nowhere else existing. At 
the suggestion of Stephen H. Phillips I wrote Lawrence Mc- 
Auley, who gave me information regarding the sale of the 
Pease library, which occurred in 187 1. Ten years later George 
W. Stewart kindly sent me the numbers of the Saturday Press, 
in which was a series of articles on early California by Henry 
L. Sheldon, a journalist in California as early as 1848. 

From Mission San Jose Cerruti writes the i8th of April, 
1875: 

** A few days ago Mr. Osio, a resident of California in 1826, arrived 
in San Francisco, dragging along with him a manuscript history of the 
ea.rly times in California. I believe he originally intended to give it to 
your library, but certain persons whose acquaintance he happened to make 
induced him to reconsider his resolution, and made him believe that there 
was money in it. Actuated by that belief, he has given his manuscript 
to Mr. Hopkins, keeper of the archives in San Francisco, with a prayer 
for enough subscribers to pay for printing it. I believe, with judicious 
diplomacy and a little coin, you could get some person to purchase the 
manuscript for your library. I think Mr. Knight would be the right 
man. If I thought I could gain a point by going to San Francisco I would 
cheerfully do so ; but I fear my mixing in the matter would cause a rise 
in the price of the manuscript." 

Being in San Jose one day in November, 1877, 1 called on 
Juan Malarin in relation to the Osio history, which Vallejo, 



FURTHER INGATHERINGS. 361 

Cerruti, Savage, and others had at various times during the 
past three years endeavored to obtain. The original of this 
important work belonged to J. R. Arques of Lawrence station, 
into whose hands it fell as executor of the estate of Argliello, 
to whom the manuscript was presented by the author. Osio 
was then living in Lower California. 

Malarin was non-committal : said he had no ownership in 
the manuscript, but did not think Arques would regard 
favorably the proposition to lend it to me, though he did not 
say why. Mr. John T. Doyle had taken a copy of it, and on 
returning to San Francisco I immediately called on him. 
As soon as I had stated my errand, he replied : " You shall 
have the manuscript, and may copy it ; and anything else 
that I have is at your disposal. You have fairly earned the 
right to any historical material in California, and I for one 
am only too glad to be able to acknowledge that right in 
some beneficial way." Thus the matter was settled. 

About this time I found myself greatly in need of a manu- 
script history of the Bear Flag movement by Mr. Ford, a 
prominent actor in the scene. It was the property of the 
reverend doctor S. H. Willey, of Santa Cruz, to whom I ap- 
phed for it. Dr. Willey responded cheerfully and promptly, 
not only sending me the Ford manuscript, with permission 
to copy it, but also other valuable material. " I take plea- 
sure in lending it to you," he writes, " that it may contribute 
possibly to accuracy and incident in your great work. The 
manuscript needs considerable study before it can be read 
intelligently. Mr. Ford was not much accustomed to writ- 
ing. General Bidwell says he was a very honest man, but 
a man liable to be swayed in opinion by the prejudices of 
his time. His manuscript seems to modify the current opin- 
ion touching Mr. Fremont's part in Bear Flag matters." The 
doctor also gave me a very valuable manuscript narrative of 
his own recollections. 

Notwithstanding all that had been done up to this time 
I felt that I should have more of the testimony of eye- 



362 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

witnesses. Particularly among the pioneers of and prior to 
1849, and among the native Californians inhabiting the 
southern part of the state, there was information, difficult 
and costly to obtain, but which I felt could not be dispensed 
with. 

Mr. Oak suggested that we should make one more appeal, 
one final effort, before finishing the note-taking for California 
history; and to this end, the 25th of August, 1877, he ad- 
dressed over his own signature a communication to the San 
Francisco Bulletin^ reviewing what had been done and sketch- 
ing what was still before us. 

Extra copies of this article were printed and sent to school- 
teachers and others throughout the coast, with the request 
that they would call upon such early settlers as were within 
their reach and obtain from them information respecting the 
country at the time of their arrival and subsequently. For 
writing out such information, for one class would be paid 
twenty cents a folio, and for another less desirable class and 
one more easily obtained, fifteen cents a folio. Not less than 
five thousand direct applications were thus made, and with 
the happiest results. Besides this Mr. Leighton, my steno- 
grapher, took some sixty additional dictations in and around 
San Francisco, and Mr. Savage made a journey south, an ac- 
count of which has already been given. Thus I went over the 
ground repeatedly, and after I had many times congratulated 
myself that my work of collecting was done ; in truth I came 
to the conclusion that such work was never done. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES. 

Periculosae plenum opus aleae, 
Tractas ; et incedis per ignes 
Suppositos cineri doloso. — Horace, 

AS I have elsewhere remarked, the soul and centre of this 
literary undertaking was the History of the Pacific States; 
the Native Races being preliminary, and the California Pas- 
toral^ Inter Pocula, Popular Tribunals, Essays and Miscellany, 
and Literary Industries supplemental to this. To the history 
belongs a biographical section entitled Chronicles of the 
Builders of the ConvnoJiwealth, 

Of the inception and execution of the Native Races I have 
already given a full description. The California Pastoral was 
also a necessary part of the series. In the history of the 
Californians under the dominion of Mexico, many of the most 
charming features in home life, in the peculiarities of the 
people, and their social and political behavior under the 
influence of their isolation and strange environment, were 
necessarily omitted. Of what remained from this superabun- 
dance of m.aterial, I took the best, and weaving with it some 
antique foreign facts and later fancies of my OAvn, I embodied 
the result in a separate volume, and in a more attractive form 
than could be presented in condensed history. 

In like manner into a volume entitled California Inter Po- 
cula was thrown a multitude of episodes and incidents follow- 
ing or growing out of the gold discovery, which could not be 
vividly portrayed without a tolerably free use of words, and 
could not be condensed into the more soUd forms of history 

363 



364 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

without, to some extent, stifling the life that is in them, and 
marring their originahty and beauty. Indeed, of this class 
of material, engendered during the flush times and after- 
ward, I had enough left over of a good quality to fill a dozen 
volumes. 

It is difiicult to imagine a more miraculous transformation 
of human aflairs, upon the same soil and under the same sky, 
than that which occurred in California during the years 1848 
and 1849. Prior to this time, the two stretches of seaboard 
five hundred miles on either side of San Francisco bay and 
running back to the summit of the Sierra were occupied by 
races of two several shades of duskiness, and divers degrees 
of intelligence, the one representative of the lowest depths 
of savagism, and the other of the most quiescent state of 
civilization. The former went naked, or nearly so, ate grass- 
hoppers and reptiles, among other things, and burrowed in 
caves or hid themselves away in brush huts or in thickets. 
The latter dreamed life lazily away, lapped in every luxury 
bounteous nature could ofler, unburdened by care, delighting 
in dress and display, but hating work and all that self-denying 
eflbrt on which the progress of communities and individuals 
depends. 

In the far north, along this same coast, at this very time 
were two other phases of life, both of which were abnormal 
and individual ; one being represented by the Muscovite, the 
other by the Anglo-Saxon. While Baranof ruled in Sitka, 
John McLoughlin ruled on the Columbia, to the full measure 
of life and death, a hundred savage nations, occupying an 
area five times as large as that of the British isles. Socrates 
said that parents should not marry their children because of 
the discrepancy in their ages. One would think so great a 
philosopher as Socrates might have found a better reason for 
forbidding so monstrous a crime against nature. The auto- 
crat of Fort Vancouver advocated the marriage of chief 
factors and traders with the daughters of Indian chiefs, set- 
ting the example himself by mingling his blood with that of 
the American aboriginal. 



PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES. 365 

In regard to the volumes entitled Essays and Miscellany 
and Literary Lidusiries they shall speak for themselves. But 
as to my two volumes called Popular Tribunals I will here 
make a few remarks. 

During the two years and more that my assistants were en- 
gaged in taking out notes on California history, I wrote the 
work entitled Popular Tribu?ials, making of it at first three 
volumes and then reducing it. I began this task in 1875; 
finished the first writing in 1877; revising and publishing it 
ten years later. I began it as an episode of Californian his- 
tory which would occupy three or four chapters, and which 
I could easily write during the few months for which I sup- 
posed the note-takers would be engaged. The note-taking 
was six times the labor I had anticipated, and so was the 
Popular Tribunals, 

As I did not wish to interrupt the note-taking, which v/as 
being done under the direction of Mr. Oak, I derived little 
help on this work from my assistants. When at Oakville, 
White Sulphur springs, Santa Cruz, or elsewhere, such material 
as I lacked I wrote for and it was sent to me. 

The method I adopted was as follows : The subject seemed 
to divide itself about equally between the outside or public 
workings of the vigilance committee, and the inner or secret 
doings. For the former, there were only the journals of the 
day, and a few disordered and partial statements printed in 
books. There was no history of the vigilance committee 
movement in existence. 

As a rule newspaper reports are not the most reliable tes- 
timony upon which to base history. But in this instance they 
were the very best that could exist. Spreading before me 
six or eight of the chief journals of the day, I had in them so 
many eye-witnesses of the facts, written by keen fact-hunters 
while the incidents were yet warm, and thrown out among a 
people who knew as much of what was transpiring as the 
newspaper reporters themselves, so that every misstatement 
was quickly branded as such by jealous, competing journals 
and by a jealous pubHc. Here was every advantage. For 



366 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the transactions of each day and hour, I could marshal my 
witnesses, taking the testimony of each as it was given accord- 
ing to actual occurrence, taking it with a full knowledge of 
the prejudices and proclivities of each witness. Thus for a 
review of the day's doings, as a newspaper radically on the 
side of vigilance, I took the Bulletin, For description of the 
same events from the extreme law and order stand-point, I 
examined the Herald, For more moderate expressions of 
facts and opinions, though still leaning to the side of vigil- 
ance, I looked through the Alia California^ the Sacramento 
Union,, the Courier^ Chronicle^ and Town Talk, 

Thus at my command were a dozen or twenty reporters to 
search the city for items and give them to me; and thus I 
went over the several years of this episode, point by point, 
bringing in, connecting, condensing, until I had a complete 
narrative, from the beginning to the end, of all these strange 
events. 

This for the outside of the subject. But there yet remained 
an inner, hidden, and hitherto veiled portion, which was now 
for the first time to be revealed. There had been at various 
times, both before and after the disbandment of the commit- 
tee, proposals for publishing a history of the movement, but 
none of them had been seriously entertained. Indeed it 
was not regarded as safe to reveal their secrets. These men 
had broken the laAv, and while in truth they were law-abiding 
citizens, they were none the less subject to punishment by 
the law. Secrecy had been from the beginning a cardinal 
virtue of the association. Absolute good faith, one toward 
another ; it was herein their great strength and efficiency lay. 

There might be some members more fearless, and with 
broader and more intelHgent views than the others, who 
could see no objection to placing on record for the benefit 
of mankind, in subsequent ages, the whole truth and details 
of the tragical affairs of the association, but who yet did not 
feel at liberty to do so as long as others interposed objec- 
tions. Such objections were interposed, and such denials 
given, many times, until at last the question arose : Should 



PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES. 367 

these things ever be revealed, or should the secrets of the 
executive committee die with the death of the members ? I 
sent Cerruti after these men, but Italian blandishments 
seemed to have greater effect upon his more volatile brothers 
of the Latin race, than upon these hard-headed and com- 
paratively cold-blooded Yankees. One of them when spoken 
to by Cerruti drew his finger across his throat significantly 
saying, " That would be to pay if I told all." Then I waited 
upon them myself. 

" You have no right,'^ I said, " to withhold these facts for- 
ever from the world. History belongs to society. To our 
children belong our experiences ; and if we hide the knowl- 
edge we have gained we rob them of a rightful inheritance. 
Nearly a quarter of a century has now passed. You cannot 
always live. Are you willing to bear the responsibility of so 
gross a barbarism as the extinguishment of this knowledge ? " 

Some were convinced, others obstinate. In vain Mr. 
Dempster, now wholly with me, called upon these latter, one 
after another, assured them that this history would be writ- 
ten, and asked if it were not better it should be done fully, 
truthfully, than with only half the evidence before the writer. 
No. They did not wish to talk about it, to think about it. 
It was a horrid nightmare in their memory, and they would 
rather their children should never know anything about it. 

For a time the matter thus stood, so far as the men of 1856 
were concerned. Meanwhile the grim inquisitors who had so 
closely sealed their own lips could not wholly prevent their 
former associates from talking upon the subject. Little by 
little I gathered from one and another information which it 
had not been hitherto deemed proper to reveal. By report- 
ing to one what another had said, I managed to gain from 
each more and more. 

Thus, gradually but very slowly, I wedged my way into 
their mysteries, and for over a year I made no further prog- 
ress than this. Then I began operations with a stenographer, 
making appointments with those who had taken an active 
part in one committee or the other, for the purpose of taking 



368 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

down a narrative of their early experiences. Many of these, 
once started on the line of their lives, seemed unable to stop 
until they had told all they knew, as well about vigilance 
committees as other matters. 

This so broke the crust that I at length succeeded in per- 
suading Mr. Bluxome, the "67 secretary" of the first commit- 
tee, and the yet more famous " ^;^ secretary " of the second, to 
let me have the books and papers of the committee of 185 1. 
All these years they had been locked in an old iron safe to 
which he had carried the key. The executive committee of 
this tribunal had never been so strict as that of the second ; 
there had been less opposition, less law, less risk in the first 
movement than in the second; and such of the first committee 
as were not dead or absent manifested more indifference as 
to the secrets of their association. 

Bluxome tells a story how orders of court were wont to be 
eluded when vigilance papers were ordered to be produced. 

In one of the many cases for damages which followed the 
period of arbitrary strangulations and expatriations, the judge 
ordered the records of the vigilants brought into court. 
Bluxome obeyed the summons in person, but nothing was 
seen of books or papers in his possession. 

"Where are the documents you were ordered to bring?" 
demanded the judge. 

" I do not know," replied Bluxome. 

" Are they not in your possession ? " 

" No." 

"You had them?" 

"Yes." 

" What did you do with them ? " 

" I dehvered them to Schenck." 

" Where are they now ? " 

" I do not know." 

Dismissed, Bluxome lost no time in hurrying to Schenck, 
and informing him of what had happened. Scarcely had 
Schenck passed the documents to a third person, before he 
was summoned to appear in court, and bring with him the 



PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES. 369 

required papers. After testifying as Bluxome had done, the 
person to whom he had dehvered them was summoned with 
hke result ; and so on until all concerned were heartily tired 
of it and let the matter drop. 

It was a great triumph when all the archives of the first 
committee were safely lodged in the library, and it proved a 
great advantage to me in opening the way to the books and 
papers of the second committee. These were in the keeping 
of Mr. Dempster, to be held in trust by him ; and while he 
would gladly have placed them all in my hands at the first, 
he felt that he could not do so without the permission of his 
associates. 

I found it less difficult after this to obtain dictations. Mem- 
bers of the committee of 1856 were not particularly pleased 
that I should have so much better facilities placed before me for 
writing the history of the first committee than for the second. 

Many of them now came forward of their own accord 
and told me all they knew. The 15th of February, 1876, 
Mr. Coleman, president of the committee of 1856, wrote me, 
at Oakville, that he was ready to give me data. A long and 
exceedingly valuable narrative of all the events from the be- 
ginning to the end was the result. It was, in fact, a history 
of the movement, and from the one most able to furnish it. 
This was supplemented by a no less valuable and even more 
thoughtful and philosophical document by Mr. Dempster. 
Likewise from Truett, Smiley, Bluxome, and twenty others, 
I obtained interesting narratives. 

When I had written the narrative of the first committee and 
had fairly begun that of the movement of 1856, the absurd- 
ity of the position assumed by certain members struck me 
with more force than ever, and I was determined, if pos- 
sible, to have the records and papers of the second committee. 
I went first to Coleman. 

" I want all the archives of your committee," I said. 
" It is the irony of folly to compel a man, at this day, to 
make brick without straw when you have abundance of 
material in your possession." 
24 



370 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

" Had it rested with me you should have had everything 
long ago," said Mr. Coleman. 

Then I went to Dempster. 

" Did I stand where you do," I ventured to affirm, " I 
would not permit the history of the vigilance committee to 
be written until those books and papers were consulted." 

" What would you do ? " he asked. 

" I would pay no attention," I repHed, " to the wishes of 
those few wise men of Gotham who would arbitrate this mat- 
ter between eight thousand vigilants and their posterity. 
They are not the vigilance committee ; they are not even a 
majority of the executive committee." 

" I cannot give them up until I am authorized to do so," 
said Dempster, " but I'll tell you what I will do. Come to 
my house where the papers are kept ; take your time about 
it, and select and lay aside such as you would like. I will 
then take such documents and show them first to one and 
then to another of these men, and they shall designate such 
as they object to your having." 

And this he did; with the result that no one threw out 
anything. But even that did not satisfy me. I wanted the 
records and all material extant on the subject. I wanted these 
spread out before me while I v/as writing; and I finally ob- 
tained all that I asked. 

Thus I found at my command three distinct sources of in- 
formation, namely, printed books and newspapers, the archives 
of the committees, and the personal narratives of the more 
conspicuous of those who participated in the events. 

The time of my writing this episode was most opportune. 
Had I undertaken it sooner, — had I undertaken it without 
the reputation which the Native Races gave me, — I am sure 
I could have obtained neither the vigilance archives, nor the 
dictations. At all events, no one had been able to secure 
these advantages, and many had so endeavored. On the 
other hand, had the matter been delayed much longer, those 
who gave in their testimony would have passed beyond the 
reach of earthly historians. And the same might be said re- 



PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES. 37 1 

garding all my work. Probably never did opportunity present 
so many attractions for writing the history of a country. Time 
enough had elapsed for history to have a beginning, and yet 
many were alive who had taken part in prominent events. 

In studying the vigilance question, I began with unbiased 
views. I had never given the subject serious thought, nor 
had I heard the arguments on either side. I had not pro- 
ceeded far in my investigations before I became convinced 
that the people were not only right, but that their action was 
the only thing they could have done under the circumstances. 
I arrived at this conclusion in summing up the arguments of 
the opposite side. The more I examined the grounds taken 
by the law and order party, the more I became convinced 
that they were untenable, and so I became a convert to the 
principles of vigilance through the medium of its enemies, and 
before I had heard a word in their own vindication. Further 
than this, my veneration for law, legal forms, and constitutions 
gradually diminished as the sophisms of their worshippers 
became more palpable. As I proceeded in my investigations, 
I saw on the one side crime rampant, the law prostituted, the 
ballot-box under the control of villains of various dye, the 
tools of men high in office. I saw betv/een the two extremes, 
between the lower and upper strata of this fraternity of crime, 
between the whilom convict, now election inspector, poll- 
fighter, supervisor, and petty political thief, between these and 
the governor and supreme judges, a multitude anxious to 
maintain the existing state of things. These were lawyers, 
whose living was affected by such disturbance ; judges, whose 
dignity was outraged; sheriffs, whose ability was called in 
question, and with them all the scum of society, hangers on 
about courts, policemen, pettifoggers, and thieves — all who 
played in the filthy puddle of politics. 

When I sav/ this element banded in support of law, or 
rather to smother law, and opposed to them the great mass 
of a free and intelligent people, representing the wealth and 
industry of the state, merchants, mechanics, laboring men, 
bankers, miners, and farmers, men who troubled themselves 



372 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

little about political technicalities and forms of law, — when I 
saw these men drop their farms and merchandise and rise as 
one man to vindicate their dearest rights, the purity of the 
polls, safety to life and property, — when I saw them rise in 
their single-heartedness and integrity of purpose, carefully 
counting the cost before taking their stand, but, once taken, 
ready to lay down their lives in support of it, and then with 
consummate v/isdom and calm moderation, tempering justice 
with mercy, pursue their high purpose to the end, — when I 
saw them vilified, snarled at, and threatened with extermina- 
tion by pompous demagogues who had placed themselves in 
power, — I was moved to strong expression, and found myself 
obliged repeatedly to revise my writing and weed out phrases 
of feeling which might otherwise mar the record of that sin- 
gular social outburst which I aimed to give in all honesty and 
evenly balanced truthfulness. 

As to the separate section of the history, the Ch?vnicles of 
the Builders of the Co?n??io?twealth, I may truthfully say that 
it was evolved from the necessities of the case. The narra- 
tive of events could not be properly written side by side with 
full biographies of those v/ho had made the country what it 
is, and it was not complete without them; hence the separate 
work. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

BODY AND MIND. 

Hard students are commonly troubled with gowts, catarrhs, rheums, 
cachexia, bradypepsia, bad eyes, stone, and collide, crudities, oppilations, 
vertigo, winds, consumptions, and all such diseases as come by overmuch 
sitting ; they are most part lean, dry, ill-colored. . . . and all through im- 
moderate pains and extraordinary studies. If you will not believe the 
truth of this, look upon the great Tostatus and Thomas Aquinas' works ; 
and tell me whether those men took pains. 

— Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy. 

WERE it not that men conduct themselves as if they knew 
it not it would seem superfluous at this late day to talk 
about exercise as a requisite to health. We all know that 
brain- work dissipates the nervous forces with greater rapidity 
than the most arduous physical labor ; that the nervous sub- 
stance of the body is exhausted by thought just as physical 
exertion exhausts the muscles. And yet how few regard the 
fact. How few enthusiastic workers succeed in schooling 
their habits into that happy equilibrium which secures health, 
and enables them to make the most of both mind and body. 
Often it is the most difficult part of the daily task, at the 
appointed hour to drop the work in which the mind is so 
deeply engrossed, and to drive one's self forth to those 
mechanical movements of the body which are to secure 
strength for another day. 

Some strength and stores of health had been laid in for 
me, thanks to my father who gave me first an iron constitu- 
tion, and supplemented it with that greatest of earthly bless- 
ings, work, in the form of plowing, planting, harvesting, and 
like farm occupation. And I doubt if in all the range of 
educational processes, mental and physical, there is any 



374 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

which equals the farm. In farm labor and management 
there are constantly at hand new emergencies to cultivate 
readiness of resource, and the adaptation of means to ends. 
Five years of steady work on a farm is worth more to most 
boys than a college education. Later in life it was only by 
excessive physical exercise that I could bear the excessive 
strain on my nervous system. By hard riding, wood-sawing, 
long walks and running, I sought to draw fatigue from the over- 
taxed brain, and fix it upon the muscles. Often the remedy 
was worse than the disease ; as, for example, when recreating, 
after long and intense application, I invariably felt worse 
than while steadily writing. Rest and recreation are pleas- 
urable no less ideally than by contrast ; no work is so tedious 
as play when we are driven to it by necessity. 

Although culture is so much less necessary to happiness 
than health, yet so fascinating is the acquisition of knowledge 
that we are ready to sacrifice all for it. But never is one so 
beguiled as when one attempts to beguile health. For a 
day, or a year, or five years, one may go on without respite, 
but always having to pay the penalty with interest in the end. 

In all aids to physical well-being, the trouble is to become 
sufficiently interested in any of them to escape weariness. 
Irksome exercise produces Kttle benefit. The instincts of 
activity must not be opposed by mental aversion. Weari- 
some amusements are but an apology for pastimes. 

On seating myself to years of literary labor, I sought in 
vain some intellectual charm in muscle-making. Though I 
loved nature, dehghting in the exhilaration of oxygen and 
sunKght, and although I well knew that liberal indulgence was 
the wisest economy, yet so eager was I to see progress in the 
long line of work I had marked out, that only the most rigid 
resolution enabled me to do my duty in this regard. I felt 
that I had begun my historical efforts late in hfe, and there 
was much that I was anxious to do before I should return to 
dust. In my hours of recreation I worked as diligently as 
ever. I sought such exercise as hardened my flesh in the 
shortest time. If I could have hired some person to take 



BODY AND MIND. 375 

exercise and indulge in recreation for me, every day and 
all day, I would have been the healthiest man in California. 
Yet, though I sought thus to intensify my exercise so as to 
equal my desires, I could not concentrate the benefits of sun- 
shine, nor condense the air I breathed. 

Nor is the benefit to the mind of bodily exercise any 
greater than the benefit to the body of mental exercise. Bod- 
ily disease is no less certainly engendered when the mind is 
left unengaged and the body placed at hard labor, than 
when the mind is put to excessive labor and the body left in 
a state of inactivity. A sound mind in a sound body is only 
secured by giving both body and mind their due share of 
labor and of rest. We are told that we cannot serve two 
masters ; yet the intellectual worker while in the flesh seems 
to be under such obligation. If man were all animal or all 
intellect, he could live completely the animal or the intel- 
lectual life, living one and ignoring the other; but being man 
and under the dominion both of the animal and of the men- 
tal, there is no other way than to divide his allegiance in such 
a way as to satisfy both, so far as possible. Further than 
this, between the different mental faculties and between the 
different physical faculties, in like manner as between men- 
tal and physical faculties, there are antagonisms. One organ 
or faculty is cultivated, in some measure, at the expense of 
some other organ or faculty. The human machine is capable 
of manufacturing a given quantity only of nervous force, or 
brain power, and in whatsoever direction this is applied, there 
will be the growth. Exact equality in the distribution of 
this force would be to the advantage of the man as a whole, 
but not to society, which is progressional, as leading members 
crowd certain faculties at the expense of the others. " Extreme 
activity of the reflective powers," says Herbert Spencer, 
" tends to deaden the feelings, while an extreme activity of 
the feehngs tends to deaden the reflective powers." 

Excessive brain- work is undoubtedly injurious to bodily 
health ; but all the evil effects so charged are not due to this 
cause. Previous disease, confinement, or other indirect 



376 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

agency often lies back of the evils laid at the door of men- 
tal labor. Indeed, it has been questioned by physiologists, 
whether a perfectly healthy organization could be broken 
down by brain- work; but as there is no such thing in nature 
as a perfectly healthy organism, the matter can never be 
tested. As brain-work rests on a physical base, and as there 
is constant breaking down in intellectual labor, just how 
much should be attributed to the direct influence of mind, 
and how much to extrinsic influences, one cannot say. The 
body may be already in a shattered state ; mind may direct 
the body into bad ways, and so bring it to harm ; but that 
the mind, by fair and honest pressure on a perfect organism, 
can crush it, is denied. I am satisfied that it is the confine- 
ment attending brain- work, rather than brain- work itself, that 
does the damage. 

The tension such as attends wild speculation is much more 
wearing than the severest study. " It is not pure brain- 
work, but brain excitement, or brain distress, that eventuates 
in brain degeneration and disease,'* says Dr. Crichton Browne. 
" Calm, vigorous, severe mental labor may be far pursued 
without risk or detriment; but Avhenever an element of 
feverish anxiety, wearing responsibility, or vexing chagrin is 
introduced then come danger and damage." 

Obviously the powerful physique needs more exercise to 
keep it in health than the puny one. The weak, delicate 
woman is satisfied with little moving about, while the strong 
man's muscles ache if they are long kept idle. Often we see 
a powerful brain in a weak body ; but that is usually when 
the mind has been cultivated at the expense of the body. A 
strong muscular physique absorbs the nervous force which 
might otherwise be employed for brain-work. It draws in 
several ways: first, in bodily exertion; then if the exercise 
has been vigorous the mind is correspondingly fatigued, or at 
least unfit to resume its labors until the forces of the body 
resume, to some extent, their equilibrium. Again, the intel- 
lectual energies, a portion of the time, are drowned' in sleep, 
the system being meanwhile occupied in the great work of 
digestion, which obviously draws upon the nervous forces. 



BODY AND MIND. 377 

As thought is influenced by the material changes of the 
brain, so the brain is influenced by the material changes of 
the body. Food and the cooking of it claim no unimportant 
part in the chemistry of mind. The psychological effect of 
diet is not less marked than the physiological effect. Cookery 
colors our grandest efforts. The trite saying of the French, 
" C'est la soupe qui fait le soldat," applies as well to litera- 
ture as to war. It is a significant fact that with the revival 
of learning in Italy came the revival of cookery. 

For the influence of externals, of extrinsic agencies, of" 
bodily conditions and changes on states of mind, we have 
only to notice how our moods are affected by hunger, cold, 
heat, fatigue, by disease, stimulants, and lack of sleep. Very 
sensibly Dr. Fothergill remarks: "When the brain is well 
supplied by a powerful circulation, and a rich blood supply 
from a good digestion furnishes it v/ith an abundance of pab- 
ulum, the cares of life are borne with cheerfulness and sustained 
with equanimity. But when the physical condition becomes 
affected, a total and complete change may be and commonly 
is induced." And again, " A disturbance of the balance be- 
twixt the wastes of the tissues and the povv^er to eliminate 
such waste products is followed by distinct mental attitudes, 
in which things appear widely remote from their ordinary as- 
pect. This condition is much more common than is ordinarily 
credited by the general pubhc, or even by the bulk of the 
profession. The physical disturbances so produced are dis- 
tinct irritability and unreasonableness, which is aggravated by 
a consciousness that there is an element of unreason present, — 
a tendency to be perturbed by sHght exciting causes, the men- 
tal disturbance being out of all proportion to the excitant." 

Yet we must not forget that between the body and mind 
there are essential differences, so far as the acquisition of 
strength from exercise is concerned. Undoubtedly the mind, 
like the body, enlarges and strengthens with exercise, but not 
in the same proportion. Every arm may, like the black- 
smith's, by power and persistent effort be made to swell and 
harden, though not all in the same degree ; and to a greater 
or less extent, beginning with childhood, and avoiding over- 



37^ LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Strains, any mind may be trained into something approaching 
that of an intellectual athlete. Toward the accomplishment 
of such a purpose, necessity and ambition, in that happy mix- 
ture found usually in the intermediate state between riches 
and poverty, are most conducive to intellectual gymnastics. 
The very rich and the very poor are alike removed — the one 
by lack of opportunity and the other by lack of inclination — 
from long and severe mental effort. 

It should not be forgotten that while engaged in a difficult 
and confining work, a writer is scarcely himself. Body and 
mind are both in an abnormal state. Thus it is that we find 
the lives of authors in direct contrast to their teachings. Yet 
this inspiration, this abnormity, or what you will, must be his 
who would aspire to an intellectual seat above his fellows. 
Few are educated into greatness ; and though genius of any 
quality short of inspiration must have cultivation before it 
has completeness, acquisition alone never yet made a man 
famous. Nor do great men make primary use of education 
in building their ladder to fame. 

Glance over the names of those most eminent in England 
during the last three centuries, and we find remarkably few 
who went through a regular course of instruction at a public 
school. The Edinburgh Review gives the names of twenty 
poets, a dozen philosophers, and a score or so of the first 
writers in morals and metaphysics who were not educated 
at Eton, Rugby, or others which in England are termed pub- 
lic schools. 

Now mental cultivation is a good thing, a grand thing, but 
it is not everything. It is what our mother nature does for 
us, as well as what we do for ourselves, that makes us what 
we are. All great men are men of natural abilities. If they 
are cultivated so much the better. It is only cultivated 
genius that reaches the highest realms of art; but if the 
genius be not there, no amount of cultivation will produce it. 
You may dig and dung your garden through twelve succes- 
sive springs, if there are no seeds in the ground there will be 



BODY AND MIND. 379 

no flowers. You may rub, and blanket, and train your horse 
until doomsday, if there be no speed in him he wins no race. 
Cultivation, in the absence of natural abilities, is like under- 
taking to kindle the edge of ocean into a flame. 

As to the personal habits of authors, they difler as widely as 
their writings; for my own part it was for years my custom to 
rise at seven, breakfast at half-past seven, and write from eight 
until one, when I lunched or dined. The afternoon was de- 
voted to recreation and exercise. Usually I would write for 
an hour or two before a six o'clock tea or dinner, as the case 
might be, and then would work for four hours afterward, 
making about ten hours in all for the day ; but interruptions 
were so constant and frequent, that including the many long 
seasons during which I hermited myself in the country, where 
I often devoted twelve and fourteen hours a day to writing, 
I do not think I averaged more than eight hours a day, tak- 
ing twenty years together. 

When I first began to write, composing was a very labored 
operation. My whole mind was absorbed in how, rather 
than what, to write. But gradually I came to think less of 
myself and the manner of expression, and more of what I 
was saying. Comparatively little of my work was of a char- 
acter which admitted of fast writing. When full of my sub- 
ject I could write rapidly, that is to say from twenty to thirty 
short manuscript pages in a day ; or counting by hours and 
measuring by another's capabilities, about one quarter as 
much as Hazlitt, though three times above the average. But 
including getting out and arranging of my material, and 
studying my subject, I could not average during the year 
more than eight badly scratched manuscript pages a day, or 
at the rate of one an hour. In preparing for me the rough 
material from the notes, my assistants would not average 
over four manuscript pages a day. 

" En ecrivant ma pensees, elles m'echappe quelquefois,'* 
says Pascal. Sometimes a flood of thought would come 
rushing in upon me, like a torrent overwhelming its banks, 



380 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and I would lose the greater part of it ; at others so confused 
and slothful would be my brain, that in turning over the 
leaves of my dictionary I would forget the word I was look- 
ing for. This was more particularly the case during the 
earlier part of my literary career; later my mind became 
more tractable, and I never waited for either ideas or 
words. 

There are many methods of gathering and arranging infor- 
mation and putting it into readable shape. The novehst has 
one way, the specialist another, the historian a third, neces- 
sarily different, and each varying individually according to 
cast of mind and habit. As a rule the best plan is to imbue 
the mind so thoroughly with the subject to be treated as to 
be able first to arrange the matter properly, and then commit 
it to paper. 

Another method, though not perhaps to be commended, is 
to write reading, and to read while writing ; that is, it is not 
to be commended, provided one has the memory and mental 
discipline to gather, arrange, and retain the necessary facts 
and produce them as required. In certain kinds of writing, 
I first draw from my own brain until its resources are ex- 
hausted ; then taking up one author after another, I learn 
what others have thought and said upon the subject. In the 
intercourse of my mind with other minds, new thoughts are 
engendered, which are likewise committed to paper, after 
which all is, or should be, re- arranged and re-written. Pliny 
and others have said that one should read much but not 
many books. This was well enough as a doctrine before his- 
tory and science had extended the range of knowledge be- 
yond the limits of a few books. Now, to be well read, one 
must read many books ; buying a cyclopedia will not answer 
the purpose. 

The first presentiment of a subject, the first flush of an 
idea, is the one a writer should never fail to seize. Like the 
flash and report of the signal gun to the belated hunter, lost 
after night-fall in the dark forest, the way for the moment 
seems clear, but if not instantly and earnestly followed it is 



BODY AND MIND. 38 1 

soon lost. Says Goethe in Faust : " Wenn ihr'o nicht fiihlt, 
ihr werdet's nicht erjagen." 

Interruptions are fatal to good work. Even though one 
has the faculty of taking up the thread of thought where it 
was laid down, there is still a great difference in the results 
of a whole day and of a broken day's work. 

While at the library my time was greatly broken by callers. 
Frequently I have begun on Monday morning to write, and 
by the time I was fairly seated and my thoughts arranged, 
I would be compelled to break off. After an interval of a 
half hour, perhaps, I might be permitted to try it again, and 
with the same results. So passed Monday, Tuesday, half the 
week, or the whole of it, and not five pages written. Often 
in a fit of desperation I have seized a handful of work and 
rushed into the country, v/here I could count with some de- 
gree of certainty upon my time. Truly says Florence Night- 
ingale, " I have never known persons who exposed themselves 
for years to constant interruptions who did not muddle away 
their intellects by it at last." 

On a certain day in January, 1876, 1 left San Francisco in 
one of these moods suddenly, and while under a sense of 
something akin to despair. It seemed as though my work 
would stretch out to all eternity. While in the city, v/eek 
after week passed by with nothing accomplished, and I de- 
termined to cut loose from these interruptions at whatever 
cost. So, sending the papers before me, chiefly memoranda 
for general chapters, I stepped aboard the boat and that 
night slept at my father's. The next day I sent for a box of 
Popular Tribunals and other material, and during the next 
six weeks of a simple Hfe, without interruptions, accomplished 
more in a literary way than during any other six weeks of 
my life. I worked from ten to twelve hours, and averaged 
twenty pages of manuscript a day; rode two hours, except 
rainy days and Sundays ; ate heartily, drank from half a 
bottle to a bottle of claret before retiring, and smoked four 
or five cigars daily. This, however, was more of a strain 
than my system could bear for any length of time. I did 



382 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

not break down under it ; I only shifted my position. The 
mind fatigued with one class of work often finds almost as 
much rest in change as in repose; just as the laborer by 
change of occupation brings into play a new set of muscles, 
giving rest to the others. 

The glare from white paper seemed at times more trying 
to my eyes than even constant daily and nightly use of them 
when writing on a dark surface. It was not until after several 
years of suffering that a simple remedy occurred to me. My 
eyes had always been good. I beheved them capable of 
any endurance, and consequently paid little attention to them 
until they began to fail me. In smoked glass I found some 
relief. But the best thing by far was the use of dark paper. 

There were two possibihties which would force themselves 
upon my mind at intervals : One wa$ fire and the other death 
before the completion of my work. So unmannerly are these 
ruthless destroyers that I could hope for no consideration from 
either of them on the ground of necessity. Imperious death 
seemed indeed to regard my labors grudgingly : not less than 
eleven of my library men died during the progress of my 
work; I could only solace myself by working the harder. 
I often thought of Cuvier, whose paralysis struck him while 
actively engaged in the arranging of a large accumulation of 
scientific material. Said he to M. Pasquier, " I had great 
things still to do ; all was ready in my head. After thirty years 
of labor and research, there remained but to write, and now 
the hands fail, and carry with them the head." Oh ! thou 
great shame of nature; will no Hercules ever rise and strangle 
thee? 

I do not pretend to be a man of sorrows, nor am I given to 
sourness and moroseness. I have often through weariness fallen 
into discouragement ; but this was only momentary. When- 
ever I returned to my work after necessary rest it was always 
with cheerful hope. I would not have about me in my family, 
my library, or my business a sighing, despondent, croaking 
individual. Until I began hterary hfe, I never thought of 
such things as nervousness, mental strain, and rarely of my 



BODY AND MIND. 383 

general health. Most of all I despised the thought of laying 
infelicities of temper at the door of mental labor. I regarded 
it as cowardly and untrue. But after a time I was forced to 
change these opinions. 

Sometimes the fire of disease so kindles the brain as to 
cause it to throw off sparkling thoughts, just as I have heard 
vocalists say that they could sing best with a cold or a sore 
throat, and speakers that they v/ere never so fluent as when 
under the influence of fever. Instance Douglas Jerrold, 
w^hose wit was never keener, or his thoughts more poetical, 
than when his body lay stretched in suffering. For fifteen 
years Edward Mayhew was unable to use his limbs, and yet 
with brains alone did he so successfully fight life's battle as 
to leave an undying name. 

Often one is heard to say that inspiration comes not at the 
bidding, that Pegasus will not always respond to the whip ; 
that one's best is bad enough, and that the tired worker should 
stop; that literary labor is different from mechanical labor, 
and that the head should be made to work only when it feels 
inchned. There is truth in this doctrine, but there is likewise 
error. At every turn in my literary labors I found method 
essential ; not alone to utilize the labor of others, but to ac- 
comphsh satisfactory results of my own. Though unable to 
work entirely by the clock like Southey, who had not only 
his hours for w^riting but his hour in each day for the several 
kinds of literary occupation resulting in his hundred and more 
volumes, it would not answer for me to trust, like Coleridge, 
to inspiration, lest it should not come when needed, nor to fly 
from one piece of work to another, like Agassiz, as fancy 
dictated. 

Yet while method is above all things necessary in any great 
undertaking, there is such a thing in literary effort as excess 
of system, which tends to painful monotony, particularly in 
the execution of a plan which is to absorb the best years of 
a lifetime. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 

By the mess, ere these eyes of mine take themselves to slomber, ay'll 
do gud service, or ay'll lig i' the grund for it ; ay, or go to death. 

— King Henry the Fifth, 

SINCE I had read and written so much about Mexico, it was 
but natural that I should wish to go there. I had com- 
pleted the history of all that region, down to the year 1800, 
having at my disposal an abundance of material, but for the 
present century I knew that there existed a mass of informa- 
tion which I did not possess. 

Accordingly on the ist day of September, 1883, 1 set forth, 
accompanied by my daughter and a Mexican servant, for the 
great city of the table-land, proceeding via San Antonio and 
Laredo, Texas. I took copious notes of everything I en- 
countered, the table spread with frijoles, tortillas, olla po- 
drida, and the rest, cooked with garlic and onions in rancid 
oil, sending forth an odor the reverse of appetizing; the 
muddy Rio Bravo, now angry and swollen with late rains, 
which we had to cross in a scow at the peril of our lives ; the 
general and universal dirtiness pervading people, houses, and 
streets ; the currency, mostly silver, and at a discount of about 
twenty-five per cent, below United States money ; the mixed 
Spanish and Indian population and architecture, the former 
of all shades of color, most of the people ugly, and many of 
them deformed and absolutely hideous, the latter of every 
grade, from the Andalusian dwelling of stone or adobe, sur- 
rounding a court, to the suburban hut of sticks and straw; 
the soil, climate, and resources of the country ; commerce, 
agriculture, and manufactures; society, politics, etc., all of 

384 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 385 

which I utiHzed in volume vi. of my History of Mexico^ and 
which I have not space to touch upon here. One thing, how- 
ever, I did not mention, though it formed the chief object of 
my visit, and that was hbraries and hterature, and the amount 
and quahty of material for history existing in the republic. 

I did not find at Monterey such archives as one would 
expect to find in that historic city. There were the usual 
state and municipal documents, of little value and limited 
extent, and, in answer to the call of the governor, the nucleus 
of a state library had been formed by donations. The best 
library in this region was that of the bishop of Linares, I. 
Montes de Oca, renowned throughout the republic for his 
ability and learning. 

Zacatecas has one of the finest private libraries in the 
country, in the possession of Senor Ortega. 

Saltillo has even less to boast of than Monterey in archives 
and libraries. With unsurpassed facilities for saving great 
masses of valuable historic and statistical information, almost 
all has been allowed to be carried away or destroyed through 
sheer ignorance and stupidity. 

As we penetrate the country we are more and more struck 
with the phenomenon of a republic without a people. There 
is here no middle class. The aristocracy are the nation. The 
low are very low; they are poor, ignorant, servile, and de- 
based, with neither the heart nor the hope ever to attempt 
to better their condition. I have never before witnessed 
such squalid misery, and so much of it. It surpasses Europe, 
and with this difference : in Europe the miserable know they 
are miserable, here they do not. Sit at the door of your 
hotel, and you will see pass by, as in a procession of the 
accursed, the withered, the deformed, the lame, and the blind, 
deep in debasement, their humanity well-nigh hidden in their 
dingy, dirty raiment, form bent and eyes cast down, as if the 
Hght of heaven and the eyes of man were equally painful — 
hunchbacks and dwarfs ; little filthy mothers with little filthy 
babes, the former but fourteen years old ; and grizzly men 
and women with tanned and wrinkled skins, bent double, 
25 



386 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

and hobbling on canes and crutches. Into such pits of deep 
abasement does man thrust his fellow man in the name of 
civilization. Infinitely happier and better off were the people 
of this plateau before ever a European saw it. 

Saltillo being at this time the terminus of the railway, we 
took private conveyance to San Luis Potosi, and thence pro- 
ceeded to Lagos by stage. For a beautiful and prosperous 
city, though somewhat primitive, being as yet without rail- 
road communication, San Luis Potosi has few equals in Mex- 
ico. Art and education are likewise well advanced, the 
state supporting, at the time of my visit, 577 schools, with 
12,620 pupils in attendance. 

I found here a man who had visited my library while in the 
United States, Dr. Barroeta, a practising physician, and pro- 
fessor of botany and zoology in the Scientific Institute, which 
has quite an extensive and valuable museum. The state and 
municipal archives, dating back to 1658, fill a room thirty feet 
square. El Seminario, or the Catholic college, has a well- 
kept library of 4500 volumes of theology, law, philosophy, 
and history. 

But by far the best and most important collection was the 
San Luis Potosi state library, called the Biblioteca Fublica del 
Cientifico y Literario^ of which I obtained a printed catalogue 
of about 3000 titles, under the headings. Jurisprudence, Ec- 
clesiastical Laws, Science and Art, Belles Lettres, History, 
and Theology. The collection dates from 1824. The laws 
and legislative documents are incomplete, owing to frequent 
revolutions. The whole of the year 1834 is a blank, also the 
period of the so-called empire, or French intervention. Be- 
sides the Diario Oficlal of the general United States Mexican 
government from 1872, was La Sombra de Zaragoza from 
1867, giving full information of political affairs in this section 
to the overthrow of the administration of Lerdo de Tejada, 
which administration it sustained. Thus will be seen, without 
further enumeration and description, what one might reason- 
ably expect to find in the state capitals throughout the republic. 
The keeper of the state library gathered for me a bundle of 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 387 

documents containing the most important information con- 
cerning the state of San Luis Potosi, so that, by purchase 
and otherwise, I was able here, and at other places along my 
route before reaching the federal capital, to add about 500 
titles to my library. 

Staging is in Mexico the best way to see the country, 
though an experience that few care to repeat. And yet it 
has its attractions. Passing down over the plateau, the 
traveller finds vast areas covered with hojasen, a kind of 
sage-brush, mezquite, gobernadora, and agrita, and he ex- 
periences a sense of loneliness, or of something lacking, away 
from the leading lines of traffic. An occasional band of 
sheep or herd of cattle, accompanied by a herder or vaquero, 
alone breaks the monotony. The land is fertile, and needs 
only irrigation to support a large population; but one jour- 
neys league after league through silent, untenanted fields, 
with here and there a few huts or a cluster of adobes, and at 
intervals an hacienda and a town. The owner of the haci- 
. enda, who spends little of his time on the premises, holds 
from five to fifty, and sometimes a hundred, square leagues 
of lands ; the occupants of the surrounding huts are virtually 
his serfs, though not legally or literally so. 

Everything strikes a stranger as old, exceedingly old, and 
dirty. The towns of thatched huts and tile-roofed adobes, 
with their central plaza and church, market place, little shops, 
and poor inn, are all of the same pattern as in the more 
pretentious cities ; when you have seen one, you have seen 
them all. 

The trim plaza in the centre of the town, with its paved 
walks leading to the fountain in the centre, orange-tree 
borders, and beds of shrubs and flowers, is usually quite at- 
tractive, and in fact, throughout Mexico, the plaza, where at 
dusk the people gather to listen to the music of the band, to 
walk and talk, flirt and gossip, is at once a unique and 
charming feature of Mexican life. 

Few of the towns have suburbs, but stop short, as if at 
a wall, which, indeed, has encircled many of them at some 



388 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

period of their existence, as protection against surprise by 
marauding bands of Indians or guerrillas. The region round 
is too often a dreary waste, with stretches of sand, or with 
bare-looking cultivated strips. 

In most of the cities. Oriental modes of architecture are 
conspicuous, the Moorish, perhaps, predominating. The 
houses with their solid walls are usually of one story, low, with 
flat tiled roof, the better class built round a court, with a wide 
entrance, closed at night with double doors, and having iron- 
barred windows, devoid of glass, looking into the court and 
street, or often they are without windows. The palaces, as 
they are called, and the better class of dwellings are usually 
of two stories, with colonnades, arched, perhaps, in masonry 
below and roofed with wooden rafters above. The floors 
are usually of burnt-clay tiles, and bare. Outside run narrow 
stone sidewalks, frequently worn hollow by centuries of use. 
Though everywhere with plain and often forbidding exteriors, 
there are dwellings in the chief cities with interiors of Oriental 
luxury and splendor. 

Land, vegetation, and cultivation improve as the central 
and southern portions of the republic are reached. Here are 
seen vast stretches as fertile and beautiful as any in the world, 
producing three crops a year with irrigation ; and places are 
found of pronounced character, displaying marked individu- 
ality, such as Mexico City, Vera Cruz, Queretaro, Oajaca, 
Guadalajara, and others, some owing their origin to mis- 
sionary convents, some to the will of a rich landholder, some 
to the course of trade. Elegant villas can be seen in the 
suburban towns of the capital, but there is scarcely in the re- 
public what would be known in the United States as a coun- 
try-seat or a farm-house. 

Notwithstanding the monotony, the observer finds much 
that is exceedingly picturesque. The towns and the coun- 
try, the people and their surroundings, all present studies. 
Here is foliage filled with blossoms and loaded with fruit ; 
here are fragrant flowers and fantastic parasites, palms, orange 
and lemon trees, and a thousand other oflshoots of redun- 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 389 

dant nature, — this for the tierra caliente, and also for the 
footland cities; and for the table-lands, colored hills and 
plains covered with a peculiar vegetation. Over thousands 
of leagues you may travel and see ten thousand weird and 
fantastic images in the palm and the cactus, in the mirage 
and in the mountain. The southern sierras are grand, and 
of every hue and height and contour. 

In the cities the churches stand conspicuous, and on the 
streets are figures of every form and pose. Drive into any 
town in any hour of the day or night, be it in scorching 
summer or freezing winter, and standing by the roadside and 
in the doorways are grim figures wrapped in scrapes and re- 
bozos, motionless and silent, but always graceful and pictu- 
resque. You see them when you come and when you go, as 
if they had stood there since Mexico was made, and were 
now waiting for the last trump to sound. 

On reaching the city of Mexico, I took up my quarters at 
the hotel Iturbide, where I remained four months, ransacking 
the city, and making excursions in various directions. 

I had letters of introduction, and being desirous of seeing 
and learning all I could and making the most of my time 
among a notoriously slow, formal, and conventional people, I 
at once sent them out, requesting the recipient to name time 
and place for an interview. 

'^ I cannot see why you want to make the acquaintance 
of these people,'^ said Morgan, the American minister, to me 
one day. " If it is to be entertained by them, you will be 
disappointed. Here am I these three or four years represent- 
ing the great American republic, and they pay not the slight- 
est attention to me. Aside from official intercourse with the 
minister of foreign relations, there is nothing between us. 
When I came, the chief officials called Avhen I was out and 
left their cards; I returned the call when they were out and 
left my card, and that was the end of it." 

'^ My dear sir," I said," it is the last thing on earth I desire, 
to be entertained by these or any other people. I come 



390 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

to Mexico for a far different purpose. Still, if I am so let 
alone as to feel slighted, it will be for the first time in my 
life." 

The fact is, Mr. Morgan could not understand what it was 
I wanted in Mexico ; nevertheless, he was always cordial and 
accommodating. 

For about two weeks my time was chiefly occupied in 
making and receiving calls. Among the first to visit me was 
Ygnacio M. Altamirano, one of the chief literary men in 
Mexico, who boasts his pure Aztec blood uncontaminated by 
any European intermixture. In form he is well proportioned, 
a little below medium height, features clear-cut and of pro- 
nounced type, bright, black eyes, and skin not very dark, 
intellect brilliant, and tongue fluent of speech. 

Altamirano divided the leading literary honors of the cap- 
ital with Alfredo Chavero, who was also a writer of talent. 
Altamirano wrote for La Libertad, La Republican and El 
Diario del Hogar; any paper was glad to get anything from 
Chavero. These men shov/ed me every attention, and intro- 
duced me to the members of the Sociedad de Geografia y 
Estatistica, at a meeting called specially for that purpose. 

Another very agreeable litterateur was Ireneo Paz, member 
of congress, and proprietor of La Fatria, which has a daily, 
and an illustrated weekly edition, on the front page of which 
Senor Paz did me the honor to place my portrait, with a bio- 
graphical notice, reviewing my books in the other edition. 

Most of the leading journals and journalists in Mexico are 
under the immediate pay of the government. There has al- 
ways been one notable exception, how^ever, in El Moiiitor 
Republication of which Vicente Garcia Torres was proprietor. 
The government offered $350 a month to this journal as sub- 
sidy, but Torres thought he could do better to keep himself 
free and independent. He was a shrewd man, Seiior Torres, 
about seventy years of age, with sharp, grizzly features, and 
a man whose kind services I shall ever hold in grateful re- 
membrance. Besides offering me his columns, he went out 
* of his way to gather material for my use. 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 39 1 

I found in Francisco Sosa, author of several works, and 
editor of El Naciojial^ a man of ability and affable, modest 
demeanor, such as makes a stranger wish to know him further. 

Indeed I met so many, who treated me so cordially, seem- 
ing to count it a pleasure to serve me, that while I cannot 
pass them by without mention, I still have not the space to 
devote to them which their merits deserve. There was Vicente 
Riva Palacio, of an old and aristocratic family, occupying a 
palatial residence, with a fine library, and many superb Maxi- 
milian and other relics, such as the chair of Hidalgo, and the 
sword of Mina. Here were the archives of the Inquisition, 
in fifty-four manuscript volumes, from the founding of the 
institution in Mexico in 1570, to the time of Independence, say 
1 8 14. His house was a workshop like my library, the owner 
exercising great diligence, with men about him extracting, 
arranging, and condensing material for his use. 

I met Amador Chimalpopoca, one of the race of aboriginal 
rulers, one night at the rooms of the geographical society. 
Native American intelligence, ability, brain power, genius, or 
whatever it may be called, is apparently no whit behind the 
European article. 

On another occasion I encountered a man no less remark- 
able in another direction, J. E. Hernandez y Davalos, who 
for thirty-one years had been collecting from all parts of the 
country, Mexico, Michoacan, Chihuahua, Jalisco, Oajaca, and 
elsewhere, documents relative to the war of Independence, 
and from that time to the French war. He states that he 
copied everything relating to the subject out of the Biblioteca 
Nacional, and had two copyists in the national archives for 
four years. He was a poor man holding some inferior gov- 
ernment position with a small salary ; but out of it he sup- 
ported his family and achieved this great work, while high 
officials stole millions and did nothing — not a single self- 
denying or praiseworthy act for their country. Hernandez y 
Davalos was often promised government aid, but government 
officials here, as elsewhere, are too prone to promise with no 
intention of keeping their word. In fact, Mexicans, of high 



392 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

or low degree, are not remarkable for their reliability. In 
1870 this man had a small cigar factory in the calle de Don- 
toribio, worth $700, the profits from which gave himself and 
family a fair support. He had already in his possession many 
precious papers, when there came one more valuable than 
all the rest. It was regarding Hidalgo, and was offered to 
him for $250. But where was the money to come from ? He 
felt that he could not let slip from his grasp so priceless a 
treasure, but this was a large amount for him to raise. He 
tried in vain to borrow it ; the paper was worth no more in 
the market than that of any pulque-seller. At last he actually 
sold out his business in order to secure this document. What 
would become of the wise and wealthy of this world were 
there no enthusiasts ! At this time, 1883, six large volumes of 
these documents had been printed by Hernandez y Davalos, 
and 700 subscribers obtained ; but unluckily a paper adverse 
to the character of the Virgin of Guadalupe slipped in, and 
straightway the subscription list dropped down to fifty. Men 
have been immortalized, with piles of masonry erected to their 
honor, for far less benefits to their country than those con- 
ferred by this poor cigarmaker. 

No small commotion this same Virgin of Guadalupe has 
made in Mexico first and last. Her shrine is at a small town 
not far from Mexico city, Guadalupe Hidalgo, a place of some 
political fame, the treaty with the United States concluding the 
war of 1846, together with the transfer of California, having, 
among other things, been accomplished there. It was here, 
if we may believe the holy men who have written volumes 
on the subject, that the Virgin appeared to the poor Indian, 
Juan Diego, imprinting her image on his blanket, that the ab- 
origines of America as well as the aristocratic foreigners might 
have her effigy to worship, and build her a church on the 
spot of her appearing. The priests pretended to be incred- 
ulous at first, but finally permitted the natives to have their 
own particular Virgin, as the latter were inclined to neglect the 
deities of Spain for those of Mexico. It is not an attractive 
place on an holiday for a person of refined organs or sensitive 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 393 

nerves, as the crowds drawn thither are by no means well be- 
haved. The gambling and drinking of the worshippers after 
church service are of a rather low order, the bets being small 
and the drink pulque. There was one highly respectable 
gambling place, however, where the superior class, the upper 
strata of society, statesmen, military officers, and commercial 
men might indulge in larger stakes at the tables representing 
the more popular European games. For everywhere in 
Mexico, as in most other places, it is not vice itself that is 
scourged so much as the manner of indulgence. Any amount 
of wickedness is anywhere tolerated so that it can be conven- 
tional. It is quite orthodox for the common people of Mexico 
to get drunk on pulque, while the upper classes may indulge 
without limit in wine, so long as they do not drink in bar-rooms 
or tipple throughout the day. So with regard to gambling, 
cheating, law-breaking, unbelief, licentiousness, and all the 
crimes and vices flesh is heir to — let them be done decently 
and in order, in such a way as to avoid exposure or punish- 
ment, and all is well. 

General Carlos Pacheco, minister of Fomento, who lost 
an arm and a leg in the war, is a man of sterling worth, and 
highly respected throughout the republic. Francisco de 
Garay, an engineer of great reputation and ability, in a series 
of conversations gave me the coloring for the several phases 
of Mexican history during the present century, such as could 
not be found in books. 

I found in the prominent lawyer and statesman, Francisco 
L. Vallarta, a most serviceable friend. Then there were 
President Iglesias and his cabinet, whom I entertained in 
San Francisco during their flight to the United States, and 
who were most cordial in their greetings and attentions. The 
venerable and learned Prieto v/as of their number. I may 
also mention Jose Maria Vigil, director of the Bibhoteca 
Nacional ; Alberto Lombardo, belonging to one of the best 
families ; Doctor Ramon Fernandez, governor of the district; 
General Naranjo, acting secretary of war and navy ; Juan 
Toro, postmaster general ; Vicente E. Manero, architect and 



394 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

engineer; Felipe Gerardo Cazeneuve, proprietor oi El Mun- 
dano ; Joaquin Garcia Icazbalceta, with a beautiful house 
and fine library, whose works were fireely used and quoted 
in my Native Races; Jose Ceballos, president of the senate; 
Jesus Fuentes y Muniz, minister of the Hacienda; Luis 
Siliceo ; Juan Yndico, keeper of the archives of the district 
of Mexico ; Jesus Sanchez, director of the museum, and a 
host of others. Icazbalceta is more bibliographer than writer; 
he cleans the pages of his old books, restores lost and faded 
cuts with pen and ink, and even set up with his own hands 
the type for one of his reprints. Manuel Romero Rubio, 
father-in-law of the late president, introduced me to Porfirio 
Diaz, and he to President Gonzalez. From General Diaz, 
the foremost man in the repubhc, I took a two weeks' dicta- 
tion, employing two stenographers, and yielding 400 pages 
of manuscript. Naturally, during this time, and subsequently, 
I became well acquainted with the Diaz family, dining fre- 
quently there, and with the father of the charming wife of 
the president, whose home was one of the most elegant in 
the capital. 

Romero Rubio, then president of the senate, formerly 
minister of foreign affairs, and subsequently minister under 
Diaz, is a fine specimen of a wealthy and aristocratic Mexi- 
can ; grave and somewhat distant in his demeanor ; yet kind 
and cordial among friends, and punctilious in the perform- 
ance of every duty, public and private. 

Porfirio Diaz appears more like an American than a Mexi- 
can. In the hall of the municipality and district of Mexico 
are portraits of all the rulers, vice-regal and republican, 
from Cortes to Diaz. And between the first and the last are 
some points of resemblance. Cortes made the first conquest, 
Diaz the last The former chose Oajaca as his home; the 
latter was born there. In the portrait of Cortes, the finest I 
have seen, the conqueror is represented as quite old, toward 
the end of life, when the pride of gratified ambition had been 
somewhat, obliterated by the machinations of enemies, the 
neglect of his sovereign, and the jealousy of courtiers. There 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 395 

is present less of the strong man triumphant than of the strong 
man humihated. Diaz has had his triumphs; perhaps his 
humihations are yet to come. Few great men escape them 
toward the end of their career ; indeed they seem necessary, 
in the economy of poHtics, to terminate the efforts of over- 
ambitious men, whose pretensions would otherwise know no 
bounds. 

The two great receptacles of knowledge, ancient and 
modern, historical, scientific, and religious, in the Mexican 
capital, and which make the heart of the student, investiga- 
tor, or collector, to quail before him, are the Biblioteca Na- 
cional, or national library, and the Archive General y Publico 
de la Nacion, or national archives. 

The Biblioteca Nacional occupies a large building, for- 
merly a church, part of the walls of one portion of it having 
been worked over until it has quite a modern and imposing 
aspect. To enter the library, as at this time arranged, you 
pass through a well-kept garden into a large room, with ir- 
regular sides and angles, well filled with books. At tables are 
usually ten or twenty persons reading or writing. Thence 
through a small door in the wall you may pass into the main 
building, or rather the main hbrary room, on either side of 
which are ranges of lesser rooms; each holding one of the 
sections, or part of a section, into which the library is divided. 
The volumes nominally number 130,000, folios in vellum 
largely predominating, nine tenths of which are of no value 
from any standpoint. Throw out these, and the many dupli- 
cates, and the number is not so imposing. 

The sections, or principal divisions, are eleven, namely, bib- 
liography, theology, philosophy, jurisprudence, mathematics, 
natural science and physics, medical science, technology, 
philology and belles lettres, history, and periodical literature. 

Sefior Vigil wrote out for me a very interesting historical 
description of this institution. The library was formed, to a 
great extent, from the old libraries of the university, the ca- 
thedral, and the several convents of the city. The edifice was 
the ancient temple of San Augustin, and is still undergoing 



396 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

changes and repairs to meet the present purpose. On the 
posts of the fence surrounding the grounds are busts of nota- 
ble authors, Veytia, Navarrete, Alzate, Pena, Alaman, and 
Clavijero; also Cardoso, Gongora, Pesado, Couto, Najera, 
Ramirez, Tafle, Gosostiza, Gaspio ; and the illustrious abor- 
iginals displaying features fully as refined and intelHgent 
as the others, Nezahualcoyotl, Ixtlilxochitl, and Tezozomoc. 
In the reading room are statues of those whose names mark 
the development of human thought, according to the esti- 
mate hereabout : Confucius, Ysarias, Homer, Plato, Aristotle, 
Cicero, Virgil, Saint Paul, Origen, Dante, Alarcon, Coperni- 
cus, Descartes, Cuvier, and Humboldt. 

The library is open from ten to five, and free; annual 
revenue for new books $8000 ; the attaches are one director, 
two assistants, four book clerks, a chief of workmen, a paleo- 
grafo, eight writers, a conserje, gardener, porter, and three 
mozos. 

All the work on the building, ornamentation, statues, and 
furniture, has been done by Mexican artisans and artists. 
The labor of classifying and arranging the books was long 
and severe. It was found, on opening boxes which had been 
packed and stored for fifteen years, that there were many 
broken sets which never could be completed. 

Far more important for history, if not, indeed, the most 
important collection on the continent, is the Archive de la 
Nacion. I found here in charge my old friend Justino 
Rubio, under whose superintendence extensive copying of 
manuscripts and documents, nowhere else existing, has been 
done in times past for my library. It did not require the 
permission of the secretary of foreign relations, so readily 
accorded to me, to enable me to visit and extract from these 
archives at pleasure. 

The national archives occupy eleven rooms in one section 
of the palace, pretty solidly filled with materials for history, 
mostly in documentary form, though there are some printed 
books. The first or main room contains something over 3000 
volumes, relating to land-titles and water-rights from 1534 to 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 397 

1820. Among the many points of interest in this collection 
are 200 volumes relating to the Spanish nobility in Mexico; 
the branch of Merced, or concessions of lands to private per- 
sons; a royal cedula branch, comprising 227 volumes from 
1609. Some rooms are filled entirely with manuscripts. 
The section on history contains much material relating to 
California and the internal provinces, from which I have 
largely copied. There are no less than 200 volumes on 
northern history alone, and 1000 volumes of military reports 
to viceroys, little from which has ever been published. 

The founding of this institution may properly date from 
1823, though it has a more extended history before than after 
that time, while for some time subsequent to the independence 
little attention was paid to it. 

I believe it was the Count Revillagigedo who, in 1790, 
conceived the idea of establishing in Mexico a depository 
similar to the Archives of the Indies in Spain. Chapultepec 
was talked of as the place for it, and two years later, through 
his minister, the Marques de Bajamar, the king ordered the 
thing done. It seems that the government documents had 
been mostly destroyed in the fire of 1692, and for a half cen- 
tury thereafter few were saved. 

Copious indexes were early made of the material, thus ad- 
ding greatly to its value. I notice some of the headings, as 
tobacco, excise, duties, pulque, ayuntamiento, department of 
San Bias, of the Californias, audiencia, mines, military, etc. 
To Revillagigedo, likewise, the world is indebted for the im- 
portant work in 32 folio volumes, begun in 1780, and entitled 
Me77iorias para la Historia Uiiiversal de la America Septefi- 
trional, sent by the viceroy to Spain. For some time after 
Revillagigedo's rule, his successors paid little attention to the 
archives, so that little more was done until after independence 
had been achieved. 

The first building occupied by the archives was the old 
Secretaria del Verreynato, later used by the ministry of Re- 
laciones. Part of the collection was deposited in the convent 
of Santo Domingo, whence many were stolen. 



39^ LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Among those who fully appreciated the value of these trea- 
sures, and the importance of having them properly arranged 
and cared for, was Jose Mariano de Salas, who in 1846 printed 
in Mexico a Reglamento, setting forth their value, not alone 
for the protection of the rights of prop^erty, but as a nucleus 
for a vast amount of further information which might be se- 
cured and saved. 

An inventory was ordered, and a schedule made of material 
elsewhere existing that should be lodged there. The latter 
included ministerial affairs, government and war correspon- 
dence, etc. The material was now divided into two parts, 
one relating to affairs before the declaration of independence, 
and one subsequent thereto. Both epochs were then divided 
into four parts corresponding to the four secretaries of state, 
namely, memoirs, law, landed property, and war. Each of 
these subjects v/as divided into sections, the first external and 
internal government, the second law and ecclesiastical, the 
third property rights, and the fourth war and maritime mat- 
ters. All these were again divided, and subdivided, into affairs 
civil, commercial, political, and so on. 

Of this institution I obtained direct and important infor- 
mation, far more than I can print. I learned, for instance, 
that under title of the Inquisition are 218 volumes of procesos 
against priests for temptation in the confessional, for matri- 
monial deceits, blasphemies, heresies, and upon genealogy 
and purity of blood. Under the heading Jesuits, is a volume 
telling of the extinction of the order in Mexico. Under title 
of the religious orders of California, is a volume on their 
foundation in 1793. Then there are the archives of the mint, 
of the renta de tabaco, etc. 

The municipal archives, or the archives of the district of 
Mexico, Juan Yndico keeper, consist of city documents ac- 
cumulated during the past 200 years. The greater portion of 
those which previously existed were burned in the fire of 1692. 

Among other libraries of historic interest, I may mention 
those of Basaho Perez, Agreda, and San Ildefonso, the last 
named formerly the collection of the cathedral. 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 399 

The public library of Toluca, comprising some 8000 vol- 
umes, is prolific in chronicles of the old convents. Indeed, 
Mexico has many libraries containing important historic data, 
notwithstanding the chaff the monks imbedded them in. In 
this sense there are many rare and valuable books throughout 
the repubhc ; but of the class commonly called rare by col- 
lectors and bibliographers, most have been carried away. 
Senor Olaguibel printed a book entitled Impresiones Celebres 
y Libros Raros. In it is a chapter devoted to rare books in 
Mexico, which indeed says little except that there are no rare 
books in Mexico. We are soberly told, however, that some 
one has reprinted the life of Junipero Serra, ^vhich is the 
foundation of California History! 

In the beautiful and very religious city of Puebla is the 
Colegio de Estado, with a library of 20,000 volumes, the 
institution having the usual departments of natural history, 
chemistry, Latin, Greek, etc. The buildings, formerly a 
convent, are antique and cover a large area, having among 
other attractions a well shaded and watered garden, with 
fountains and gold fish. Here are 200 students; the place 
could easily accommodate a thousand. 

In the Puebla state library, before mentioned, is a volume 
of original letters of Morelos ; also several other volumes of 
valuable documents relating to the days of independence, 
1810-21. General documents run from 1764 to 1858. 
There are two volumes of royal cedulas i527toi8i8; also 
two volumes of papers relating to the trial of the priest Mier, 
who preached against the Guadalupe Virgin. 

Another large building in another part of the city is called 
the school of medicine, in which is a general library of 26,000 
volumes, but containing, as most of them do, more theology 
than anything else. 

On a cool, dry, December evening, as the sun was sinking 
behind the skirts of Popocatepetl, I found myself standing 
upon the summit of the hill of Cholula, amidst the porcelain- 
planted graves, drooping pines, and stunted rose-bushes, in 



400 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

front of the church with its dilapidated wall and large open 
reservoir. It is a rugged, uneven elevation, rising solitary 
some two hundred feet above the plain, and is evidently partly 
the work of nature and partly of man. The winding roadway, 
half of it paved smooth with stones and half in form of broad 
steps, is bordered by a thrifty growth of grass, which also crops 
forth upon little benches, and the thick shrubbery that covers 
the hillside is freely sprinkled with the cactus and pepper-tree. 
Popocatepetl, or Smoking Mountain, rises before me, and next 
to it the scarcely less imposing peak of Iztaccihuatl, The 
White Woman, she of the recumbent figure; while in the op- 
posite direction, over the ghttering domes of distant Puebla, 
stands Orizaba, also white-crested, and winged by fleecy clouds. 

At my feet Hes the town of Cholula, with its long lines of 
intersecting ditches, as Cortes first saw them, marking the di- 
visions of corn-fields, and garden-patches lined with maguey. 
It is a miserable place, made up of hovels and churches, one 
view of which tells the story of hfe, — how the poor, in the 
small, uncomfortable houses, pinch themselves to sustain a 
costly service in the great temples, and add to their splendor. 
If I mistake not, God would be better pleased with smaller 
churches, fewer priests, and larger and more comfortable 
dwellings for his people. 

The whole of this immense and rich valley, alternately the 
prey of contending armies since the advent of Cortes, and 
now for the first time learning the arts of peace, is greatly 
given to religion, as it used to be even in the remote times 
of Toltec sway, when pilgrims flocked from afar to the shrine 
of the Feathered Serpent. Casting my eyes around over one 
of the most beautiful scenes in Mexico, I count two score 
villages marked by the tall, white towers of thrice as many 
churches ; some indeed being nothing more than hamlets Avith 
half a dozen dingy little houses cringing beside a great dingy 
church, some sheltered by trees and shrubbery, others standing 
solitary in the open plain. 

I thought Puebla had houses of worship enough for all, 
with her sixty or seventy temples of every imaginable style, 



EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO. 4OI 

high- domed and broad-spreading edifices, about one for every 
thousand of the half-naked and barefooted natives who are 
called upon to support them and their three hundred priests. 
The state prison is part church ; in the house of maternity is 
a church ; the state college was once a convent forming part 
of a church edifice ; and the cathedral, though smaller than 
the one in Mexico, is accounted richer within. 

But for all this, famous, squalid little Cholula, according 
to the population, outdoes Puebla. There is the little church 
with its two towers and large bells on the historic hill, rusty 
without, but elaborately gilded within, and the large church 
amidst the houses below, near where the worshippers congre- 
gate to see the bull-fight after service, and one to the right 
and another to the left, and half a dozen more on every side, 
the simultaneous ringing of whose bells at the hour of blazing, 
tropical afterglow might lead one to suppose the world to be 
on fire. This must indeed have been a foul spot of Satan's 
to require such long and elaborate cleansing ; for hereabout 
once stood no less than four hundred heathen temples ; but I 
would rather see restored and preserved some of those archi- 
tectural monuments, albeit in good truth temples of Satan, 
which capped this pyramid in aboriginal times, than a thou- 
sand of the earth-bestrewed edifices reared to his confounding 
at the cost of pinched toilers. 

As I thus stood, I fancied I could see marching through 
the same long white, radiating streets the ancient processions 
with their dismal chant and clang of instruments, coming 
hither from all directions to the sacrifice. I fancied I could 
see the bodies of the victims tumbled over the steeps as the 
blood-besmeared priests held aloft the palpitating heart, while 
all the people raised their voices in loud hosannas. And I 
could easily imagine the good god Quetzalcoatl here taking 
leave of his people, even as did Christ, promising meantime 
to return with new and celestial benefits. 

All the while I was in Mexico I gathered books, took dic- 
tations, and wrote down my thoughts and observations. With 
some difficulty I succeeded in obtaining enough of the leading 
26 



402 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

journals published in Mexico since 1800 to make a continu- 
ous file of the events of the day from the opening of the 
century to the present time. These series of newspapers, 
each taking up the thread where in another it was broken off, 
proved of the greatest advantage to my work. 

This expedition added to my library some 8000 volumes. 
Three years later I made a second trip to Mexico, chiefly to 
verify certain statements and add a few points prior to closing 
the last volume of my History of Mexico, The railway being 
completed, the journey was nothing ; and being brief and 
without special significance, I will inflict no detail of it on 
the reader. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

TOWARD THE END. 

Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame ; 

Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame ; 

Averse alike to flatter, or offend ; 

Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend. — Pope. 

I HAD hoped to close my library to general work, and dis- 
miss my assistants by January i, 1887. I had yet several 
years of work to do myself, in any event, but I thought if I 
could stop the heavy library outlay of one to two thousand 
dollars a month, I should feel more inclined to take life 
easier, with less nervous haste and strain in my work. 

Several causes combined to prevent this. As is usually 
the case, the completion of my history consumed more time 
than I had anticipated, the necessary re-writing and revision, 
not to mention numberless delays growing out of the cares 
and vicissitudes of business, being beyond calculation. The 
truth is, in looking back upon my Hfe and its labors, I cannot 
but feel that I never have had a full and fair opportunity to 
do my best, to do as good work as I am capable of doing, 
certainly not as finished work as I might do with less of it 
and more time to devote to it, with fewer cares, fewer inter- 
ruptions. I have often wondered what I might have accom- 
plished, had I not been forced to " write history on horse- 
back," as General Vallejo terms it. On the other hand, I 
have had much to be thankful for, and can only submit my 
work to the world for what it is worth. 

Notwithstanding all that I had thus far done, there was yet 
this one thing lacking, and as the end of my labors was 
drawing near, and I was looking forward to a period of rest, 

403 



404 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the thought forced itself more and more upon my mind. 
This was the necessity of a work supplementary to the history 
proper, in which the lives of those who had made the country 
what it is should receive fuller treatment. 

The development and conditions here were peculiar, and 
in their historical elucidation must be met in the plainest, 
most practical, and fitting way. Within the present half 
century a vast wilderness had been transformed into fields of 
the foremost civilization, by men of whom many v/ere yet 
living. Since the world began no such feat had ever been 
accomplished within so short a time; obviously none such 
could ever occur again, the engendering conditions not being 
present. Hundreds of years were required to build up Greece 
and Rome, and other hundreds to carrying civilization into 
Germany and England; and all midst fanatical wars and 
horrible human butcheries such as should put to blush the 
face of man. 

But in the development of our own thrice-favored land, 
this westernmost America, there were no wars, except the 
war of mind over matter, or civilization over savagism. 
There was no physical bondage or intellectual coercion. 
Yet, turning to our towns and cities, our fruitful fields and 
orchards and gardens, with their thousands of happy homes ; 
our railways, and irrigating canals ; our mines, manufactures, 
and commerce; our government and social condition, we 
find accomplished within these fifty years what has taken 
other nations ten or twenty times as long. 

True, we had a record of their experiences as a foundation 
upon which to build our new experiences in this fair wilder- 
ness; otherwise it could not have been done. But for all 
that it was a great and good thing to build here as we have 
built, thus making proper avail of our high privileges. And 
are not the men who have quietly and patiently wrought out 
this grand accomplishment, each laboring after his own fash- 
ion and for his own immediate purposes — are they not as 
much entitled to prominence and praise as the greatest of 
conquerors or statesmen ? Is it not as interesting to us, the 



TOWARD THE END. 405 

Study of their characters ? Is it not as profitable for us to 
follow them in their good deeds as to follow the others in 
their good and evil deeds ? 

It was therefore deemed absolutely essential, before it 
could be said that a proper historical presentation had been 
made of the country and those who had made it, of the em- 
pire and the builders of empire, that the history have a 
biographical section, devoted primarily to the men as the 
historical section proper is devoted primarily to the events. 
For it is as inexpedient to stop the flow of the narrative of 
events with a lengthy and elaborate analysis of character, as 
it is to break into an entertaining and instructive biography 
with a too lengthy narrative of events. 

At the same time, here was an opportunity to do much 
better than simply present a collection of detached biogra- 
phies of the most influential and prominent personages after 
the usual form, howsoever valuable such a work might be in 
connection with the history. What would make it tenfold 
more interesting and valuable would be to take one by one 
the more important of these men of strength and influence, 
and, after a thorough character study, place their portraits in 
proper form and color in the midst of the work which they 
have done, and in company with kindred industries accom- 
plished by others, and round the whole throw a framework 
of history. Here, then, are embalmed in the annals of their 
own time and country the men or their deeds, there to remain, 
the benefits and blessings conferred during life thus being 
made perpetual. 

In the text and foot-notes of the history I had interwoven 
much material of a biographical nature — all that the narra- 
tive could fairly carry. But this was not enough. 

It seemed not right or just that in a history of this country 
giving the full details of industrial and social development, 
the events should render subordinate to so large an extent the 
men who had made the events. 

The importance of biography is not everywhere fully ap- 
preciated. Surely in preserving the annals of a country, and 



406 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

especially its earlier annals, it is necessary to posterity that the 
stories of the lives of men of strength or influence in the com- 
munity should be told for the benefit of those now living, and 
of those who shall come after them. The man of energy 
and ability is a factor in the affairs of his country. No one 
can achieve high and permanent success withowt benefiting 
others. Upon the events and actualities which surround the 
individual, and which he himself has made, he leaves his im- 
press, which is his Hfe, his true being, the crystallization of his 
thoughts, the mxaterial expression of his capability. The man 
himself may soon be forgotten, and his place filled by others, 
but his successors, whether they know it or not, are contin- 
uing the work which he began, and building on the foundation 
which he had laid. A record of personal experiences is of 
importance to the country as showing by what means the man 
has accomplished certain results, thus enabling others to do 
likewise or better. "A noble life put fairly on record acts 
like an inspiration to others," says Samuel Smiles. And again, 
" The great lesson of biography is to show what a man can 
do and be at his best " ; while Beecher terms biography the 
home aspect of history. 

After securing all the comforts and luxuries of life for him- 
self and his family, for what does a man further labor ? If 
of a miserly disposition, he v/orks for the mere pleasure of ac- 
cumulating money. But if intelhgent and public-spirited, he 
continues his labors for their beneficial effects, and for the in- 
terest and pride he takes in them. Now, it is evident that 
if these beneficial effects of a man's life can be rendered per- 
petual, it is important that this should be done, and it can be 
done only by writing out the acts and experiences of a man's 
life in the form of a biography, and placing that biography 
in history. 

The advantages of history are manifold and obvious. 
Without the recorded experiences of the race there could be 
no accumulation of knowledge ; without a knowledge of the 
past there could be no improvement in the future. So with 
biography, which is but a part of history. Every man of 



TOWARD THE END. 407 

marked intelligence, wealth, and influence assists in making 
history in a greater or less degree, according to what he ac- 
complishes. He cannot help doing this, for history is the 
record of what men do. Nor should that record be delayed 
until they have passed away. No one can call up the facts 
and intuitions of a man's life, the theory and practice of his 
achievements, so well as the man himself; and to arrange 
those facts, anal)^ze the intuitions, elucidate the benefits of 
what has been accomplished, and weave the whole into an 
instructive and entertaining narrative, requires a writer pos- 
sessed of ability, enthusiasm, and experience. 

But to return to the history proper. I had long had in 
view a visit to Salt Lake City and the Colorado region, and in 
August, 1884, in company with my wife and family, took up 
my quarters at the Continental hotel in the city of the saints, 
remaining there for six weeks. 

There was much ill feeling existing at the time between 
the Mormons and gentiles, the government being apparently 
in earnest in putting down polygamy, while the Mormons 
were just as determined to maintain that institution or die in 
the attempt. It was just upon the border, in point of time, of 
the long season of prosecution and persecution, of litigations 
and imprisonments, which has not a parallel in American 
annals. 

We were not there, however, to take part in any contro- 
versy; we had come simply to gather facts, observe, study, 
and meditate upon this strange social problem. I should 
probably have known long ere this how to answer the ques- 
tion. What is Mormonism ? but I did not. Nor would there 
be entire unanimity among divines in answering the questions. 
What is Methodism ? or Mohammedism ? Very shallow ideas 
the world has in relation to the dogmas it fights and bleeds 
for, on one side or the other. There was fighting enough for 
dogmas in Salt Lake City in the year 1884. There v/ere few 
like Christ, to love their enemies, or turn the other cheek 
when one was smitten. 



408 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

We saw much of the leaders on both sides, were enter- 
tained by gentiles and Mormons, and entertained them in 
return; we listened attentively, but said little; it was no 
wonder, therefore, that we were regarded somewhat sus- 
piciously by both sides. All this was of small consequence, 
however, beside the accomplishment of our mission, which 
was fully done in every particular. There was little the 
Mormons would not do for us ; there was little we desired at 
the hands of the gentiles, since from their standpoint I had 
already gathered all the information that was to be had. 

Notwithstanding the large mass of material, printed matter, 
manuscripts, journals, dictations, and special investigations 
which had been sent to me, there were still gaps in my work 
that I wanted filled. John Taylor, who w^as present and 
severely wounded at the assassination of Joseph Smith, was 
at this time president of the church, and Wilford Woodruff, 
afterward his successor, was in charge of the historian's office. 

For these people had had an historian's office and an his- 
torian almost from the beginning of their existence as a reli- 
gious sect. The acts of the apostles, and the doings of 
president and people, had been minutely written down and 
preserved. And, indeed, much farther back than the story 
of their present organization they went — back to Babel and 
the origin of things. The Book of Mormon comprises largely 
their history, as the Bible is the history of the Jews. Some 
of the Babel-builders, it relates, after the grand scattering, 
found their way to America, and were the aborigines of this 
continent, among whom long lay hidden the metal plates 
eventually found by Joseph Smith. 

Mr. Woodruff had an elaborately written journal in some 
twenty manuscript volumes, if I remember rightly, giving a 
history of the church and the doings of its members from the 
days of Nauvoo. Never before had such work been done for 
any people, not even for the children of Israel ; for there was 
not one important incident or individual omitted. Mr. Wood- 
ruff and Mr. Richards were kind enough to give me most of 
their time during this visit. Besides my labors with them, I 



TOWARD THE END. 409 

took many long dictations from others. I met frequently 
George Q. Cannon, first counsellor; Joseph F. Smith, nephew 
of Joseph Smith ; Brigham Young, eldest son of the second 
president ; Moses Thatcher, W. B. Preston, William Jen- 
nings, Feramorz Little, Heber J. Grant, H. S. Eldridge, Eras- 
tus Snow, C. W. Penrose, John R. Park, and a hundred 
others. 

While I was laboriously engaged in this office during most 
of my time in Salt Lake City, Mrs. Bancroft saw many of 
the Mormon women, making their acquaintance, winning 
their friendship, and taking dictations from them. Polygamy 
with them was a sacred institution, a state not to be lightly 
entered upon, but only after due preparation, prayer, and holy 
living ; a cross, perhaps, but one which only the blessed might 
bear. Hovering in space all round the revolving earth were 
myriads of disembodied spirits, for whom it pleased God that 
men should manufacture flesh. Nor with the men was poly- 
gamy the result of sensuaiity ; your true sensualist will have 
many women but no wife. 

From Utah we went to Colorado, stopping at Canon City, 
Leadville, Pueblo, Colorado Springs, and other points of 
historic interest and importance. We were everywhere re- 
ceived with the utmost cordiality. It would be difficult to 
find anywhere pleasanter people, or a more intelligent or re- 
fined society, than at Denver. I shall never forget the kind- 
ness of Doctor Bancroft, Governors Pitkin, Grant, and Routt, 
and Judges Stone, Bennett, Beck, and Helm. 

Colorado was at this time in a very prosperous condition, 
and the people were justly proud of their state, of its his- 
tory, its resources, and its possibiHties. By supplying my- 
self pretty freely with help in the form of stenographers 
and statisticians, I secured the experiences of several hun- 
dreds of those whose lives are in great part the history of 
the state. Among the manuscripts thus resulting was one 
which must ever constitute the corner-stone of Colorado 
history. Nearly two months were occupied in writing it, 
and the work was done in this way : Taking a full file of the 



410 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Rocky Mountam News^ the first journal published in the 
country, I sat down before it with a stenographer and its first 
editor, who, while I questioned and commented, told the his- 
tory of the state, turning over the leaves of the newspaper to 
refresh his memory, and give him the desired information. 

Judge Stone's ideas and experiences form a very interest- 
ing historical manuscript. He assured me that the topo- 
graphy of Colorado was in his mind's eye as clear as if seen 
at one view from the corner of a cloud ; and I found his 
knowledge of political and commercial affairs and the re- 
sources and industries of the state no less lucid and inter- 
esting. 

While my family were at Denver, enjoying the generous 
hospitality of the good people of the place, I spent a fort- 
night at Cheyenne, going through files of newspapers, and 
writing out the experiences of the prominent men. In this 
and subsequent labors in relation to the history of Wyoming 
I was greatly assisted by John Slaughter, territorial librarian, 
A. S. Mercer, of the Live Stock Journal^ John W. Hoyt, J. 
M. Carey, J. R. Whitehead, F. J. Stanton, E. S. N. Morgan, 
territorial secretary, A. T. Babbitt, Thos. Sturgis, W. W. 
Corlett, and others. Then at Laramie were S. W. Downey 
and T. H. Hayford; at Lander, N. Baldwin and H. G. 
Nickerson ; not to mention the commanding officers at forts 
Russell, Steele, Laramie, McKinney, and Bridger. 

Part of the winter of 1884-85 1 spent in New Mexico, where 
I had interviews with most of the leading men, and obtained 
a large mass of material which was an absolute necessity to 
my work. At Santa Fe I examined the archives thoroughly, 
and engaged Samuel Ellison, the keeper, to go through them 
and make extracts from some, and complete copies of all of the 
important papers and manuscripts. After a time, however, 
finding the task too slow and irksome, he finally consented, 
contrary to the regulations, but greatly to my satisfaction, to 
send to me in San Francisco, by express, a part at a time, 
such material as I wanted copied, that I might have the work 
done in my library. 



TOWARD THE END. 41I 

I cannot refrain from mentioning, among those who ren- 
dered me valuable assistance at Santa Fe, the names of C. B. 
Hayward, W. G. Ritch, Francis Downs, Archbishop Lamy, 
Defouri, Prince, Thayer, Fiske, Phillips, and the Chaves; at 
Albuquerque and Taos, the Armijos and the Valdez; and at 
Las Cruces, Cunniffe and Van Patten. 

I have not mentioned in this volume a twentieth part of 
the journeys made, the people seen, and the work done in 
connection with the labors of over a quarter of a century, col- 
lecting material and writing history, but enough has been 
presented to give the reader some faint conception of the 
time, labor, and money necessary for such an historical under* 
taking. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

BURNED OUT ! 



Mercury. " What's best for us to do then to get safe across ? " 
Ckarojt, *' I'll tell you. You must all strip before you get in, and 
leave all those encumbrances on shore; and even then the boat will 
scarce hold you all. And you take care, Mercury, that no soul is admit- 
ted that is not in light marching order, and who has not left all his 
encumbrances, as I say, behind. Just stand at the gang-way and over- 
haul them, and don't let them get in till they 've stripped." — Lucian, 



BUT my troubles were not yet over. While I was buying 
farms and building houses in San Diego, and dreaming 
of a short period of repose on this earth before being called 
upon to make once more an integral part of it, in the twink- 
ling of an eye I was struck down, as if by a thunderbolt 
from heaven. 

For twenty years past I had been more than ordinarily in- 
terested in this southern extremity of the state, with its soft 
sunshine and beautiful bay, the only break in the California 
coast-line south of San Francisco that could be properly called 
a harbor, and from time to time I had invested a few thousands 
in lots and blocks, until satisfied that I had enough, when 
the commercial metropoUs of the south should be further de- 
veloped, to make a goodly addition to my private fortune. 

Many a time before this I had temporarily sought shelter 
for myself and family from the cold winds and fogs of San 
Francisco, often in the Napa and Ojai valleys, and elsewhere. 
Then I wondered if there was not some place more accessi- 
ble to my work, which would answer the purpose as well. 

Ever since 1856 I had been gazing on the high hills back 
of Oakland and Berkeley, wondering what was on the other 

412 



BURNED OUT! 413 

side ; and one day I said, I will go and see. So I mounted 
a horse, and wound round by San Pablo and through the hills 
until I came to Walnut creek, and beyond there to Ignacio 
valley, near the base of Monte Diablo, where I bought land, 
and planted it in trees and vines. 

It was a broad and beautiful patch of earth, covered with 
large scattering oaks, looking like many other parts of 
primeval California, only that the trees were larger, indicat- 
ing unusual depth and strength of soil. The sun rises over 
the Devirs mountain, and the cool southwest wind comes 
over the high Oakland hills fresh from the ocean, the infre- 
quent, dry, hot, north winds alone taking advantage of the 
open country toward Martinez. It was not without regret 
that I cut down the venerable oaks ; but oak trees and fruit 
trees do not affiliate, and Bartlett pears are better than 
acorns, so all were cleared away except a group left for 
building sites and shelter of stock. 

For the most part it was a perfect climate, the heat of sum- 
mer seldom being enervating, with but little frost in winter; 
but I was growing querulous over California airs, and said I 
wanted them quieter and softer than those which followed 
me even here, carrying their thick fog-banks to the summit 
of the highest westerly hills, and scattering them in finest 
mists filled with sunshine over the valleys below. So we 
took the train, my wife and I, and started south, stopping at 
Pasadena, Riverside, and elsewhere, all of which were too 
settled, too civilized for us. Then we came to San Diego, 
and found there a country virgin enough for any one, and 
withal so dry, barren, and forbidding, that a week of explor- 
ation in every direction was passed, setting out from our hotel 
in the early morning and driving till night before we found a 
place in which were seemingly united all the requisite ad- 
vantages. There we were satisfied to rest, and then we 
made our purchase. 

Spring valley it was called, from a large perpetual spring 
nature had formed there ; and it was the most attractive spot 
within ten miles of the future metropolis. 



414 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

El aguaje de San Jorge it had been named by the early- 
Mexicans, and by the first Americans the St. George water- 
hole. In common with the country thereabout it had been 
used as a sheep range, the springs serving as a herding point 
and watering place, though the padres also here raised vege- 
tables and fruit for the mission. Not long after the year i860 
a San Diego lawyer, Judge Ensworth, who was in ill health, 
obtained a possessory claim to the property at this charming 
spot, on which he spent a portion of his time. He walled up 
the spacious springs, and purchasing from Captain Bogert a 
portion of the lately broken up coal ship, Clarissa Andrews^ 
with difficulty had it hauled over to the ground, and used it 
in the erection of an adobe house. The place, in all some 
500 acres, including other purchases, I named ,the Helix 
Farms, and entered it in my book of life to spend my latter 
days there. I then returned north. 

I was now reaching the point where I felt it absolutely 
necessary to rest, or I must succumb entirely, through the 
simple failure of strength and endurance. 

I was born on a farm; my earliest recollections were of 
farm life ; my childhood's home had been there, and if there 
was any rest for me on earth, I was sure it would be under 
like conditions. My work was nearly done. I had no fur- 
ther desire to mingle with the affairs of the world. I was 
content with what I had accomplished ; or at least all I could 
do I had done, and I was sure that in no way could I better 
become young again than in spending much time with my 
little ones, in teaching them how to work and be useful, as 
my devoted parents had taught me. 

It was on the 30th of April, 1886, that I was standing on 
the steps of the Florence hotel, at San Diego, when my wife 
drove up in her phaeton and handed me a telegram. " They 
said it was important," she remarked, and eyed me earnestly 
as I opened and read it. " What is it ? " she asked. " Is it 
bad ? " " About as bad as can be," I replied. It was from 
Mr. N. J. Stone, manager of the History department of the 



BURNED OUT! 415 

business, and it read, " Store burning. Little hope of saving 
it" Half an hour later came another despatch, saying that 
nothing was saved but the account books. 

The full effect of this calamity flashed through my brain 
on the instant : the building in which I took much pride, its 
lofts filled to overflowing with costly merchandise, all gone, 
the results of thirty years of labor and economy, of headaches 
and heart-aches, eaten up by fire in an hour ! I say the full 
eflect of it was upon me ; yet the blow — though for a time 
it prostrated me, seemed to strike softly, as if coming from a 
gloved hand, for at the moment I was powerless to oppose it. 
I continued the occupation of the day as usual, for I was then 
building for my wife a summer residence overlooking the 
bay ; but many days of sorrow and anguish were in store for 
me by reason of this fire. 

In this same hotel, seven months before, I had read of the 
Crocker fire, a similar catastrophe happening to a house of 
like business to ours. And I then thought, " This might as 
well have been Bancroft, but how different the result to 
me, and hundreds of others." As La Rochefoucauld says : 
" Nous avons tous assez de force pour supporter les maux 
d'autrui." And now it was, indeed, Bancroft, and all their 
fine establishment, the largest of its kind in western America, 
swept away in the midst of a struggle to place my histories 
fairly upon the market. Twenty volumes had been issued, 
and the firm was still $200,000 behind on the enterprise. 
But it was gaining. Daylight shone as through a tunnel in 
the distance ; the last month's business had been the most 
encouraging of all ; when suddenly, office, stock, papers, cor- 
respondence, printing-presses, type and plates, and the vast 
book-bindery, filled with sheets and books in every stage of 
binding, were blotted out, as if seized by Satan and hurled 
into the jaws of hell. There was not a book left ; there w^as 
not a volume of history saved ; nine volumes of history plates 
were destroyed, besides a dozen other volumes of plates; 
two carloads of history paper had just come in, and 12,000 



41 6 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

bound volumes were devoured by the flames. There was 
the enterprise left, and a dozen volumes of the history plates 
in the library basement, and that was all. 

The loss thus in a moment of over half a million of dollars, 
above all that any policies of insurance would cover, was not 
the worst of it. Our facilities for work were gone, machinery 
destroyed, and business connections suddenly snapped; at 
noon with one of the largest stocks in America, at night with 
nothing to sell ! I went down to the train, stowed myself 
away in a sleeper, and came to San Francisco, knowing I had 
to face the brunt of it and endure the long-drawn agony of 
the catastrophe. My daughter was with me- Friends and 
sympathizers met me at Martinez. It was Sunday when I 
arrived and went to my city quarters. I kept my room until 
Tuesday; then pulled myself together and went down among 
the printers and bookbinders, who, poor fellows, were ready 
to cry when they saw me enter the miserable rooms on Geary 
street, to which they had been forced to fly with their books. 
I really felt more for them than for myself, as many of them 
had been for many years dependent on the business for a live- 
lihood, and they had wives and little ones to feed. And my 
poor wife ! I felt for her, from whom I was forced to part so 
abruptly. But most touching of all was the sympathy of the 
children. Paul said, " Papa shall have my chicken-money to 
help build his store," as he turned his face from his mother 
to hide his tears. At another time, looking at a new shot-gun, 
he said, " I am glad we have that gun, for no w papa will not have 
to buy one." Little PhiHp would work all day and all night, 
and another bantling persisted in going about gathering nails 
in an old tin can for two days for his father. 

It is such testimonials as these that touch the strong man 
to the quick, and not formal letters of sympathy and condo- 
lence. 

It took time to get accustomed to the new order of things. 
I wandered about the city and noted the many changes of 
late ; I admired the new style of architecture, and noted the 
lavish expenditure of the big bonanza men and others in the 



BURNED OUT! 417 

immediate vicinity of my still smoking ruins, and I felt sad 
to think that I had no longer a stake in this proud and wealthy 
city. For my ground must go. It was heavily mortgaged 
for money with which to print and publish my history. Seven- 
teen years before I gathered it up, as I have said, piece 
by piece, as I could get it, and pay for it, paying for one 
piece $6000, and for one of like dimensions and equal value 
adjoining $12,000, thus buying seven lots in order to make 
up one of the size I wanted. And now it must all go into 
the capacious maw of some one not foolish enough to write 
and publish history. 

It makes one's heart sore thus to walk about old familiar 
haunts and feel one's self a thing of the past. Neither the 
streets nor the sunshine have the same significance as form- 
erly. They are not my streets ; it is not my sunshine ; I am 
an interloper here ; I am the ghost of a dead man stalking 
about the places formerly frequented while living. 

Death is nothing, however. Every silent stab of the in- 
numerable incidents that every day arise brings its death 
pang. To die once is to get off cheaply ; to die fifty times a 
day even, one may become somewhat accustomed to and so 
endure it without flinching. But the wife and little ones ; ah ! 
there's the rub ; all through my life of toil and self-abnegation 
I had looked forward to the proud position in which I might 
leave them, prouder by far than any secured by money alone, 
for I might easier have made ten miUions than have collected 
this library and written this history. I must come down in 
my pretensions, however, there is no help for it. 

For thirty years, I thought, I have had a bookstore in this 
town, and the first and finest one here, or within two thousand 
miles of the place. Whenever I walked the streets, or met 
an acquaintance, or wanted money, or heard the bells ring 
for church, or drove into the park, or drew to my breast my 
child ; whenever I went home at night, or down to business 
in the morning, or out to my library, or over to my farm, I 
had this bookstore. And now I have it not. I have none. 
I never shall have one again. It is I who should have been 
27 



4l8 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

destroyed, and not this hive of industry which provided food 
for five hundred mouths. 

I dropped at once into a system of rigid economy in per- 
sonal expenses, though I well knew that the little I could 
save in this way would make no difference. But there must 
have been a comfort in stinting myself and making my body 
feel the pinchings of poverty that my soul felt. 

For days and weeks I studiously avoided passing by the 
charred remains of my so lately proud establishment. I 
never liked looking on a corpse, and here was my own 
corpse, my own smouldering remains, my dead hopes and 
aspirations, all the fine plans and purposes of my life lying 
here a heap of ashes, and I could not bear to look upon 
them. 

Half of the time during these days I was sick in bed with 
nervous prostration. Day after day and far into the night I 
lay there with an approximate statement of the condition of 
my finances in my hand, holding it before my eyes until I 
could not see the figures. It seemed, while I held it in my 
hands, that I was thus meeting the issues which I must pres- 
ently fight out as soon as I could stand on my legs. It was 
the long and lingering suspense that piled up the agony ; if I 
was to be hanged, and could know it at once, face it, and 
have it over, I could nerve myself for the emergency ; but to 
keep myself nerved to meet whatever might come, not know- 
ing what that would be, required all my fortitude and all my 
strength. 

So far as the mere loss of money was concerned, or that I 
should be held in less esteem by my fellow-men, I cared noth- 
ing for that. I never loved money ; few and simple were my 
wants ; I desired to be held only in such esteem as I deserved, 
and that estimation most men have in the community, them- 
selves or their enemies to the contrary notwithstanding. 

A sense of obligation in regard to the duties of life rests 
to a greater or less degree upon most men. We do not like 
to see wrong-doing triumph, or the innocent made to suffer ; 
we do not like to see peculation in office, bribery among of- 



BURNED OUT! 419 

ficials, or the greed of monopolists eating up a community ; 
we do not like to see the young squander their inheritance, or 
women and preachers gambling in stocks. Somewhat simi- 
larly, we do not like to see an old estabhshed business, a credit 
and almost a necessity to the community, which year after 
year lives and grows, giving support to scores of families, 
become obliterated. 

" What a blessing your library was not burned," the old- 
womanish men would say. " It was providential that you had 
moved it." Blessing! There was no blessing about it. It 
was altogether a curse ; and of a truth I should almost have 
felt relieved if the library had gone too, and so brought my 
career to a close. I felt as did Shylock, about his money and 
his life : as well take my history as take from me the meaus 
of completing my history. I could curse my fate ; but with 
more show of reason curse the management which, unknown 
to me, had crammed full to overflowing eight large floors with 
precious merchandise in order to take advantage of low 
freights, at the same time cutting down the volume of insu- 
rance, so that when a match was carelessly dropped in the 
basement of the furniture store adjoining, and a two-hour^ 
blaze left only a heap of ashes, the old business was killed as 
dead as possible. 

The business had not been very popular of late; it had 
many competitors and consequently many enemies ; hence 
thousands were made happy by its fall. I do not know how 
we all could have gone to work to confer the greatest pleasure 
upon the greatest number so eflectually as in burning up our 
establishment. Yet some were kind enough to say that it was 
a public calamity ; that there was nothing now in the country 
which might properly be called a bookstore, as compared 
with what ours was. 

We knew better than others what the calamity signified ; 
that mercantile houses like ours, as it lately stood, could not 
be built, any more than mountains could be made, or systems 
of knowledge evolved, in a day. I had been thirty years in 
this work of creation ; I had not another thirty years to de- 



420 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

vote to a similar work ; therefore I knew I never should have 
such another bookstore. 

But there were other things in the world besides book- 
stores j if I could get rest from severe strain I would be satis- 
fied; but I could do anything now but rest. The question 
was : Should I make a struggle to re-build my fortunes, or 
should I lay down my weary bones and drift as comfortably 
as I might into the regions of the unconscious ? Were I to 
consider myself alone ; had I no work to do affecting others, 
no other principles than the best preservation of self, I could 
tell quickly what I would do. I would choose some sunny 
hillside and there follow with my eyes the rising and setting 
of the sun, until the evening should come when I might go 
down with it. 

The question was not what I would like to do, but what 
I ought to do. To be influenced by what would make me 
the most happy or miserable was putting it upon too low a 
plane. One man's happiness or misery for a few years is a 
small matter ; small to his fellow-men, who are thinking mainly 
of themselves, small to himself, if he stops thinking about him- 
self, his happiness or misery, and goes about his business in 
the spirit of doing in the best manner he can the thing which 
most of all requires next to be done. 

I was tired, as I said ; I could easily sink out of sight, and 
lie at rest beside my sepulchred hopes. This would be the 
easiest way out of the difficulty. But I had never been ac- 
customed to the easiest way, or to regard my pleasure as the 
first consideration in life. To do as best I was able, every 
day and every hour, the thing nearest me to be done, whether 
I liked it or not — that had been the unwritten code by which 
I had regulated my conduct ; and whether I would or not, 
and all without knowing it, I could now no more deviate 
from that course than I could change my nature. Except 
in moments of deepest depression, and then for only a mo- 
ment, did I think of such a thing as giving up. To face the 
detail of going over the dead business to save what could be 
saved sickened me beyond measure, but I had to swallow 



J 



BURNED OUT! 42 1 

the dose. I offered to give the remnant of the busmess to any- 
one who would assume the responsibiUty, and save me the 
trouble and annoyance of cleaning it up ; but no one would 
take it, and I was therefore compelled to do it myself. 

I say there were other things than myself to be considered ; 
indeed, myself was but a small part of it. There was the his- 
tory, and the men engaged on it, and the pledges which had 
been made to the public and to subscribers. " Ah, yes,'* 
they would say, '' this might have been expected, and so we 
are left with a broken set of books on our hands." There 
was the business, and a large body of creditors that must be 
paid. There was my family, and all who should come after 
me ; if I should fail myself and others now, who would ever 
after rise up and retrieve our fallen fortunes ? No ; I could 
do now a hundred times more than any one of them could 
probably do at any time hereafter, and I would try to do it, 
though the effort should grind me to powder. Then, too, it 
was not in the power of a man so constituted and so disci- 
plined as I had been to sit down beside the business I had 
established almost in my boyhood, and labored to sustain and 
build up all through my life, and see the light of it go out, 
become utterly extinguished, making no effort to save it. 

Building and business being both cut off in an instant, I had 
not a dollar of income in the world. I did not deem it pos- 
sible to re-erect the store, the formxer building being heavily 
mortgaged. I offered the lot for sale, but no one would buy 
at a fair price. It took two months to ascertain whether the 
business was solvent or not ; for although most of the account- 
books had been saved, there were goods and invoices in tran- 
sit, and new statements of accounts had to be obtained from 
every quarter. 

Until the state of the business could be definitely known, 
I could make no calculations about anything. I might have 
to sell all I had to pay the debts of the firm. Above all, it 
might be utterly beyond the question to continue the publi- 
cation of the history. This would be indeed the greatest 
calamity that could befall ; for in that event, without flatter- 



422 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

ing myself that the world at large would regard the matter in 
a serious light, to me, and to those more immediately inter- 
ested in and dependent upon me, all would be lost, not only 
property and life, but that for which ,life and property had 
been given. A half-finished work would be comparatively 
valueless; and not only would no one take up the broken 
threads and continue the several narratives, but there would 
be little hope of the work ever being again attempted by any 
one on the extensive and thorough plan I had marked out. 
It is true that much of the work that I had accomplished 
would be useful in the hands of another, whether working in 
conjunction with or under the direction of some society or 
government, or in a private capacity ; the question was, how- 
ever, would any government or individual undertake it ? The 
collected materials would never diminish in importance, but 
rather increase in value as time passed by, and the indexes, 
prepared at such a large expenditure of time and labor, would 
always be regarded as of primary necessity, as the only means 
by which vast stores of knowledge could be reached. 

But to return to my affairs so greatly disarranged by this 
unfortunate fire. I kept the lot, for the reason before inti- 
mated, because I could not sell it, buyers seeming to think it 
a special imposition that they could not profit by my calamity. 
When, finally, I knew that I need not sell it, the savings 
banks sending me word, if I wanted to rebuild to come around 
and get the money, I found that in accepting their offer I 
should save at least $100,000, as the difference between the 
real value of the lot and what, at the moment, I could get 
for it. Then I determined to go on and rebuild, and at once 
I began to do so. 

There was now the library work to be considered. While 
comparatively speaking I was near the end, so near that I 
could begin to think of retiring to farm Ufe, and a voyage of 
several years around the world as an educating expedition 
for my children, yet I had much to do, and this fire added 
to it a hundred fold, even should it be possible to complete 
the work at all. I had made out at the library a schedule 



BURNED OUT! 423 

showing the exact condition of the work, what had been done, 
what remained to be done, what plates had been destroyed 
and what remained, and an estimate of the probable time and 
expense it would require to complete the history. Two years 
and $12,000 were the time and money estimated, but both 
time and money were nearly doubled before the end came. 

It was interesting to observe the diverse attitudes assumed 
by different persons after the fire, the actions of friends and 
enemies, in the business and out of it. First, and by far the 
largest class, were honest and hearty sympathizers, of high 
and low degree, who regarded our business as a useful one, 
its objects in the main praiseworthy, and its loss a public ca- 
lamity. Another class, large enough, but not so large as the 
other, was our enemies, mostly business competitors, who had 
long been envious of us, and were now delighted at our dis- 
comfiture. 

A singular phenomenon was a shoal of business sharks 
which sailed in around us, seeking something to devour. It 
is useless citing examples, but I was surprised beyond expres- 
sion to find among tlie commercial and industrial ranks, doing 
business with every claim to honesty and respectability, those 
scarcely inferior to highway robbers; real estate sharpers, 
swindling contractors, and lawyers, hunting for some loop- 
hole to get a finger in — men who by rights should be within 
the walls of a penitentiary. It was then that I first learned 
that there were business men in our midst whose principles 
and practices were worse than those of any three-card monte 
men, who lived and did business only to get the better* of 
people by some catch, trick, swindle, or other indirection. 

Best of all were the true and noble fellows of our own es- 
tablishment, who stood by us regardless of any consequences 
to themselves. All were not of this stamp, however; there 
were some from whom we expected the most, for whom we 
had done the most, but who now returned us only evil, show- 
ing bad hearts — but let them pass. It is a matter for self- 
congratulation rather than regret, the discovery of a traitor in 



424 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

the camp, of an unprincipled person in a position of trust 
and confidence, one held in high esteem, not to say affection- 
ate regard, — to find him out, to know him that he might be 
avoided. It is not the open enemy that does us serious injury, 
but the treacherous friend. And in truth I have encountered 
few such during my life, either in the business or out of it, 
few comparatively. Most young men, if ever they have once 
felt the impressions of true nobility and integrity, will not de- 
part from them. Some forget themselves and fall into evil 
ways, but these are few. There is no higher or nobler work, 
no more pleasing sight, than to watch and assist the un- 
folding of true nobiUty of character in young men of good 
impulses. And Avhile there are so many of inferior ability 
seeking situations, and so many situations waiting for compe- 
tent persons, it seems a pity the standard of excellence and 
intelligence is not raised. 

There were in the ranks of the old business instances of 
loyalty and devotion which will remain graven on my heart 
forever — men who, regardless of their own interests, stood 
by the wreck, determined at any personal hazard, any self- 
sacrifice, to lend their aid as long as hope remained. I noticed 
with pride that most of the heads of departments thus re- 
maining had begun their business career with me in the original 
house of H. H. Bancroft and company, and had been in full 
accord with me and my historical work from first to last ; and 
I swore to myself that, if the business survived, these men 
would never regret their course, and I do not think they ever 
have. Nor should my assistants at the library be forgotten, 
several of whom, besides quite a number at the store, volun- 
tarily cut down their salaries in order to make as light as 
possible the burden of completing my work. 

In many varied moods were we met by different persons 
with whom we had dealings. We did not propose to fail, or 
compromise, or ask an extension, as long as we had a dollar 
wherewith to pay our debts ; but there was no use disguising 
the fact that the business had received a severe blow, and - 
might not survive it. Among the publishers and manufac- 



BURNED OUT! 425 

turers of the eastern United States are men of every breadth 
of mind and size of soul. During this memorable year we 
took an inventory of them, sizing them up, so to speak, at 
about their value. Nearly all extended to us their sympathy, 
most of which was heart-felt. Quite a number went further, 
and manifested a disposition to help us to regain our feet ; 
but this amounted to little, practically, though for the feelings 
which prompted it we were grateful. 

There was one man especially, a Massachusetts merchant, 
with whom v/e had no intimate acquaintance, and on whom 
we had no special claim. We had bought goods from him 
as from others; but he was not like some of his locality, 
wholly given to gain, with bloodless instincts and cold wor- 
ship of wealth. He met us openly, frankly, with something 
more than machine-made sympathy, and asked to share with 
us our loss. Never shall we forget the courtesy and kind- 
ness of this gentleman, or the firm he represents, the minds 
and hearts of whose members are so far above the millions 
they command. 

On the whole, we considered ourselves very fairly treated, 
both at the west and at the east, in the adjustment of diffi- 
culties arising from the fire. The insurance companies were 
entitled to every praise, paying their losses promptly before 
they were due. New friendships v/ere made, and old friend- 
ships widened and cemented anew. I was specially gratified 
by the confidence moneyed men seemed to repose in me, 
granting me all the accommodations I desired, and thus en- 
abling me quickly to improve my fortunes, as I will more 
fully narrate in the next and final chapter. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 



Nihil infelicius est cui nihil unquam evenit adversi, non licuit enim 
illi se experiri. — Seneca, 

Prosperity inspires an elevation of mind even in the mean-spirited, so 
that they show a certain degree of high-mindedness and chivalry in the 
lofty position in which fortune has placed them ; but the man who pos- 
sesses real fortitude and magnanimity will show it by the dignity of his 
behavior under losses, and in the most adverse fortune. — Plutarch, 



AS the goods arrived which were in transit at the time of the 
fire, they were put into a store of which we took a year's 
lease in the Grand hotel, on Market street. Orders came in 
and customers called, making their purchases, though in a 
limited way. Considering the crippled condition of the busi- 
ness and the general prostration of its affairs, the result was 
more favorable than might have been expected. In due time 
I was able to ascertain that with close collections, and mak- 
ing the most of everything, the business was not only solvent, 
but had a margin of $100,000 above all Habilities. To bring 
about this happy state of things, however, the utmost care and 
watchfulness, with the best of management, were necessary; 
for, while returns were slow and precarious, liabilities were 
certain and defined. 

Meanv/hile a number of detached concerns sprang up, 
thrown off from the parent institution in the whirl of the 
great convulsion. The history department was segregated 
from the old business, and reorganized and incorporated 
under the name of The History Company. 

The bare fact of loss of property, — not being able to count 
myself worth as much as formerly by so many thousands, — 

426 



THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 427 

as I have before intimated, never gave me a moment's pang or 
uneasiness. From the first the main question, and the only 
question, was, could the pubhshing business pay its debts ? 
If the Market street lot, the library, my farms, and all other 
property had to be sacrificed to Hquidate the indebtedness of 
the business, thereby arresting the publication of the history, 
and sending me forth empty-handed to earn my bread, — I 
frankly admit that I could not face this possibility without 
flinching. But when it was ascertained that the old business 
was solvent, and would pay its debts without further sacrifice 
of my resources, I wrote my wife, who was still in San Diego 
attending to my affairs in that city, that she need have no 
fear of the future, for if I lived we would yet have enough 
and to spare, without considering what might happen in south- 
em California. 

Buying an additional lot, so as to make a width of one 
hundred feet on Stevenson street, having still seventy-five feet 
frontage on Market street, in something over a year I had 
completed on the old site a neat and substantial edifice, a 
feature of Market street, and of the city, which I called The 
History Building. Its architecture was original and artistic, 
the structure roomy and commodious, and it was so named 
in consideration of my historical efforts. 

I had seen from the first that it would be necessary as soon 
as possible, if I expected to get another start in the world, to 
secure some steady income, both in San Diego and San Fran- 
cisco. In the former place, property was so rapidly increasing 
in value, that on account of increased taxation and street as- 
sessments a portion of it would have to be sold unless it could 
be made productive. Some of it, the outside lands, was sold, 
and with the proceeds, and what I could scrape together in 
San Francisco, we managed to erect a business building there, 
which brought in good returns. Then there was the ground 
rent from a hundred lots or so, which helped materially. No 
money which I had ever handled gave me half such pleasure 
as that which I was able to send to my wife at this time ; for 
although it lessened and made more difficult my chances of 



428 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

success in San Francisco, it removed my family further every 
day from possible want, and thus gave me renewed strength 
for the battle. 

Up to this time the pubhcation and sale of my historical 
series had been conducted as part of the general business, 
under the management of Nathan J. Stone. As this business 
had assumed large proportions, sometimes interfering with 
the other departments, and not always in harmony with them 
or with the general management, it was finally thought best 
to organize an independent company, having for its principal 
object the publication of my books, together with general 
book-publishing, and acting at the same time as an agency 
for selected eastern publications. 

It may be not out of place to give here some account of 
the manner in which the publication and sale of this historical 
series was conducted, with a brief biography of the man who 
managed it ; for if there was anything unusual in gathering 
the material and writing these histories, the method by which 
they were published and placed in the hands of readers was 
no less remarkable. 

Ordinarily, for a commercial man formally to announce to 
the world that he was about to write and publish a series of 
several histories, which with preliminary and supplemental 
works would number in all thirty-nine volumes, would be 
regarded, to say the least, as a somewhat visionary proposi- 
tion. Those best capable of appreciating the amount of time, 
money, labor, and steadfastness of purpose involved, would 
say that such an one had no conception of what he was un- 
dertaking, did not know in fact. what he was talking about, 
and the chances were a hundred to one he would never com- 
plete the work. 

Still further out of the way would it seem for the publishers 
of the series to bring forward a prospectus and invite sub- 
scriptions beforehand for the whole thirty-nine volumes at 
once. Such a proceeding had never been heard of since pub- 
lishing began. It could not be done. Why not adopt the 
usual course, announce the first work of the series and take 



THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 429 

subscriptions therefor ? This done, pubUsh the second ; and 
so on. People will not subscribe for so large a work so far 
in advance of its completion, with all the attendant uncertain- 
ties. So said those of widest experience, and who were sup- 
posed to be the best capable of judging. 

We well knew that no New York or London publisher 
would undertake the enterprise on such terms. We also 
knew that no book, or series of books, had ever been written 
as these had been. We did not know that the publication 
and sale could be successfully effected on this basis, but we 
determined to try, and for the following reasons : 

First, properly to place this work before men of discrimi- 
nation and taste in such a way as to make them fully under- 
stand it, its inception and execution, the ground it covers, 
and its peculiar methods, required men of no common ability 
and persistence, and such men must receive adequate com- 
pensation for superior intelligence and energy. To sell a 
section of the work would by no means pay them for their 
time and labor. 

Secondly, when once the patron should understand the 
nature and scope of the work, hov/ it v/as originated and how 
executed, as a rule, if he desired any of it, he would want it 
all. As is now well known, any one section of the series, 
though complete in itself, is but one of a number, all of which 
are requisite to the completion of the plan. 

Thirdly, considering the outlay of time and money on each 
section, a subscription to one volume only, or one set of vol- 
umes, would in no way compensate or bring a fair return to 
the publisher. Throughout the series are constant references 
and cross-references, by means of which repetitions, otherwise 
necessary for the proper understanding of each several part, 
are avoided, thus making, for instance, the history of Mexico 
of value to California, and vice versa. 

When a book is published, clearly the purpose is that it 
should be circulated. Pubhshing implies sending forth. Print 
and stack up in your basement a steamboat load of books, 
and until they are sent out they are not published. And they 



430 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

must be sent out to bona fide subscribers, and placed in the 
hands of those who value them sufficiently to pay for them. 
To print and present does not answer the purpose ; neither 
individual influence nor the authority of government can give 
a book circulation, or cause it to be regarded as of intrinsic 
value. It must be worth buying in the first place, and must 
then be bought to make it valued. 

In the matter of patronage, I would never allow myself to 
be placed in the attitude of a mendicant. I had devoted 
myself to this work voluntarily, not through hope of gain, or 
from any motive of patriotism or philanthropy, or because of 
any idea of superior ability, or a desire for fame, but simply 
because it gave me pleasure to do a good work well. Nat- 
urally, and very properly, if I might be permitted to accom- 
plish a meritorious work, I would like the approbation of my 
fellow-men; if I should be able to confer a benefit on the 
country, it would be pleasant to see it recognized; but to 
trade upon this sentiment, or allow others to do so, would be 
most repugnant. 

Therefore, it v/as my great desire that if ever the work 
should be placed before the public for sale, it should be done 
in such a manner as to command and retain for it the re- 
spect and approbation of the best men. It would be so 
easy for an incompetent or injudicious person to bring the 
work into disfavor, in failing to make its origin, its plan, 
and purpose, properly understood. In due time fortune 
directed to the publishers the man of all others best fitted 
for the task. 

Nathan Jonas Stone v/as born in Webster, Merrimac coun- 
ty, New Hampshire, June ii, 1843, which spot was likewise 
the birthplace of his father, Peter Stone. Both of his grand- 
fathers were captains in the army, one serving in the revolu- 
tionary war, and the other in the war of 181 2. 

Mr. Stone's early Hfe was spent on a farm, working during 
summer, and attending school or teaching in winter. No 
better training can be devised for making strong and self- 
reliant men; no better place was ever seen for laying the 



THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 43 1 

foundations of firm principles, and knitting the finer webs of 
character, than a New England country home. 

In 1863, being then twenty years of age, Mr. Stone came 
to California by way of Panama, arriving in San Francisco 
on the 1 8th of August, with just ten cents in his pocket. In- 
vesting his capital in Bartlett pears, he seated himself on the 
end of a log, near the wharf where he had landed, and ate 
them. Thus fortified for whatever fate might have in store, 
he set forth to find work. He knew not a soul in the city, 
having cast himself adrift in a strange country, at this early 
age, with nothing to depend on but his own native resources, 
though knov/ing full well that there was no such thing as star- 
vation for a man of his metal. 

Times were very dull, and easy places with good pay were 
not abundant. Nor did he even search for one; but after 
walking about for the greater part of the day, making his 
first tour of observation in the country, about five o'clock he 
saw posted on Kearny street a notice of workmen wanted, 
and was about making inquiries concerning the same, when 
he was accosted by a man driving a milk-wagon, who asked 
him if he was looking for employment. Stone repKed that 
he was : whereupon the man engaged him on the spot, at 
forty dollars a month and board. Three months afterward 
he was offered and accepted the superintendence of the in- 
dustrial school farm, acting later as teacher and deputy super- 
intendent. 

In 1867 he entered the house of H. H. Bancroft and com- 
pany, acting as manager first of the subscription department, 
and then of the wholesale department. In 1872 he became 
interested in the awakening civilization of Japan, w^ith its 
manifold opportunities, and opened business on his own ac- 
count in Yokohama, where his transactions soon reached a 
million of dollars a year, importing general merchandise and 
exporting the products of the country. He placed a printing- 
press in the mikado's palace, which led to the establishment 
of a printing bureau, and the cutting out and casting into 
type of the Japanese characters. 



432 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

Obliged by ill-health to abandon business, he returned to 
San Francisco in 1878 completely prostrated; but after a 
summer at his old home, he recovered, his health still fur- 
ther improving during a four years' residence at Santa Rosa, 
California. 

Mr. Stone had followed me in my historical efforts with 
great interest from the first. He had watched the gradual 
accumulation of material, and the long labor of its utilization. 
He believed thoroughly in the work, its plan, the methods by 
which it was wrought out, and the great and lasting good 
which would accrue to the country from its publication. He 
was finally induced to accept the important responsibility of 
placing the work before the world, of assuming the general 
management of its publication and sale, and devoting his life 
thereto. No. one could have been better fitted for this ar- 
duous task. With native ability were united broad experience 
and a keen insight into men and affairs. Self-reliant, and tire- 
less in his efforts, bold, yet cautious, careful in speech, of un- 
flagging energy, and ever jealous for the reputation of the 
work, he entered the field determined on success. A plan was 
devised wholly unique in the annals of book-publishing, no 
less original, no less difficult of execution than were the meth- 
ods by which alone it was possible for the author to write the 
work in the first place. And with unflinching faith and loy- 
alty, Mr. Stone stood by the proposition until he made of it 
a most complete success. 

Among the most active and efficient members of The His- 
tory Company is George Howard Morrison, a native of Calais, 
Maine, where he was born November 8, 1845. His ancestors 
were of that Scotch-Irish mixture, with a tincture of EngUsh, 
which produces strong men, mentally and physically. On 
the father's side the line of sturdy Scotch farmers and man- 
ufacturers, with a plentiful intermixture of lawyers and doctors, 
may be traced back for generations ; the mother brought to 
the aUiance the Irish name of McCudding. George was one 
of nine children. Owing to failures in business their father 



THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 433 

was unable to carry out his design of giving them a Hberal 
education, but in New England there is always open the vil- 
lage school, vf hich many a prominent American has made suf- 
fice. It certainly speaks volumes for the self-reliance and 
enterprise of the boy, when we find George, at the age of 
fourteen, alone, and without a friend or acquaintance in the 
country, applying for a situation at the ofiice of a prominent 
lawyer in Sacramento. 

" What can you do ? " asked the lawyer. 

" Anything that any boy can do who is no bigger nor abler 
than I am," was the reply. 

The lawyer was pleased, took the lad to his home, gave him 
a place in his office, and initiated him in the mysteries of the 
profession. There he remained, until the growing importance 
of the Comstock development drew him to Nevada, where 
he made and lost several fortunes. Entering politics, he was 
made assessor of Virginia City in 1866, represented Storey 
county in the legislature in 1873, and was chief clerk of the 
assembly, introducing a bill which greatly enlarged the use- 
fulness of the state orphan asylum. In 1870 Mr. Morrison 
married Mary E. Howard, the estimable and accomplished 
daughter of John S. Howard, type-founder, of Boston, four 
children, Mildred, LilHe, George, and Helen, being the fruits 
of this union. 

Mr. Morrison was one of the first subscribers to the history, 
in which he became deeply interested, finally joining his fate 
with that of The History Company and of The Bancroft 
Company, of both of which companies he is a director, and, 
of the former, secretary. 

As The History Building drew near completion, the pro- 
position arose to move the business back into its old quarters ; 
but it had become so crippled in resources and condition that 
I did not care to assume the labor, risk, and responsibility of 
its resuscitation. 

I had long been anxious to withdraw from business rather 
than go deeper into it. The thought lay heavily upon me 
of taking again upon my already well-burdened shoulders the 
28 



434 LITERARY INDUSTRIES. 

risks and duties of a wide-spread business, with endless detail 
and scant capital; I did not care for the money should it 
succeed; I wanted nothing further now than to get away 
from everything of the kind. 

Yet this was my old business which I had established in 
my boyhood, and worked out day by day and year by year 
into vast and successful proportions ; for there had never been 
a year since its foundation that it had not grown and flour- 
ished, and that as a rule at a steady rate of increase. I had 
for it an affection outside of any mercenary interest. Through 
good and evil times it had stood bravely by me, by my fam- 
ily, my history, my associates, and employes, and I could not 
desert it now. I could not see it die or go to the dogs with- 
out an effort to save it ; for I felt that such Avould be its fate 
if I neglected the opportunity to restore it to its old locality, 
and regain somewhat of its old power and prestige. The 
country was rapidly going forward. There must soon be a 
first-class bookstore in San Francisco. There was none such 
now, and if ours did not step to the front and assume that 
position, some other one would. Immediately after the fire 
the remarks were common, " It is a public loss " ; " We have 
nowhere, now, to go for our books " ; " Your store was not 
appreciated until it was gone." 

My family were now well provided for, through the rise 
of real estate in San Diego. What I had besides need not 
affect them one way or the other. I felt that I had the right 
to risk it in a good cause — every dollar of it, and my life in 
addition, if so I chose. After all, it was chiefly a question of 
health and endurance. I determined to try it ; once more I 
would adventure, and succeed or sink all. 

So I laid my plans accordingly, and in company with W. 
B. Bancroft, Mr. CoUey, and Mr. Borland, all formerly con- 
nected with the original house of H. H. Bancroft and Com- 
pany, I organized and incorporated The Bancroft Company, 
and moved the old business back upon the old site, but into 
new and more elegant quarters. 



THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY. 435 

And now my story is told, the story of my works, and the 
story of my life. Looking back over all the long stretch of 
years that I have carried this heavy burden, though I should 
not care to assume it again, yet I am not sorry to have borne 
it. Of the various motives which urge men to the writing of 
books, perhaps the most worthy, worthier by far than love of 
fame, is the belief that the author has something to say which 
will commend itself to his fellow-man, which perchance his 
fellow-man may be the better for hearing. If I have fulfilled 
in some measure even the first of these conditions, then has 
my labor not been in vain. 



INDEX, 



Adams, C. F., meeting with, 174. 
Alaska, material for hist, of, 299- 

307, 352-3- 

Alemany, J. S., archiepiscopal ar- 
chives, 254-5. 

Allen, A., dictation of, 285. 

Altamirano, Ign. M., his literary 
standing in Mex., 390. 

Alvarado, J. B., his important dic- 
tation, xix ; biog., 222-3; Val- 
lejo's negotiations with, 223-6; 
material furnished by, 225-8, 
230. 

Amador, Chimalpopoca,his talents, 

391- 

Amat, Bishop, meeting with, 267-8, 

American Antiquarian Society, 
hon. member of, 189. 

American Ethnological Society, 
hon. member of, 189. 

Ames, J. G., meeting with, 181. 

Anderson, A. C, reminiscences of, 
285, MS., 289. 

Andrade, J. M., library of, 96-101. 

Applegate, J., meeting with, 296. 

Archivo Gen. y Publico de Mex. — 
descript. of, 396-8. 

Armijo (family) of N. Mex., kind- 
ness of, 411. 

Arnaz, J., reminiscences of, 279. 

Ash, J., material furnished by, 285. 

* Atlantic Monthly,* reviews * Na- 
tive Races,' 180. 

Authors, characteristics of, 14-18; 
habits of, 379-83 ; several nota- 
^ ble Mexicans, 396. 

Avila, J., dictation of, 278. 

Avila, M., courtesy of, 280. 



B 

Babbitt, A. T., mention of, 410. 

Bacon, J. M., dictation of, 295. 

Baldwin, N., mention of, 410. 

Bancroft Company, The, organ- 
ization of, 434. 

Bancroft, Geo., meeting with, 176. 

Bancroft, H. H., early mental de- 
velopment, ix; business capac- 
ity, ix-xx; literary aspirations, 
methods and work, xx-xxvii ; pe- 
cuniary difficulties surmounted, 
xxviii-xxix ; family relations, 
xxix; character, xxix-xxxi; de- 
votion to his work, 2-4 ; works, 
appreciation of, in Cal., 9-1 1; 
ancestry and relatives, 27-31 ; 
boyhood, 31-46; education, 35, 
42-6; early career, 46-55; char- 
acter, 47, 50-1 ; goes to Cal., 
1852, 56-7; at the mines, 62-4; 
disappointments, 65-8 ; at Cres- 
cent City, 1853-5, 69-71 ; home 
again, 1855, 72-4; return to Cal., 
1856, 76-7; firm established by, 
77-8; first marriage, 78; busi- 
ness affairs, 78-86; books and 
material collected by, 89-107, 
177-8, 182, 207-14, 259-62, 
263-5 ; library building, 108-12 ; 
literary projects, 129-32; ill 
health, 132-3 ; resolves to write, 
133-5 5 preparation of material, 
136-45; assistants, 138, 154; 
scope of the work, 147, 153; 
despondency, 149; impulse to 
write, 150; literary efforts, 152- 
4, 157; * History of the Pa- 
cific States,' 153; * Native Races 
of the Pacific States,' 158-66; 



437 



438 



INDEX. 



eastern tour, 1874, 170-83 ; meet- 
ing with Gray, 1 70-1 ; with 
Lowell, 1 71-2; with Phillips, 
172-3; with Whittier, 173-4; 
with Adams, 174; with Park- 
man, 174-5; correspondence 
with Holmes, 175 ; meeting with 
G. Bancroft, 176; with Draper, 
176; with Nordhoff, 176-7; with 
Porter, 178; with King, 178-9; 
withSpofford, 181-2; with Ames, 
181 ; agreement with Longmans 
& Co., 183 ; correspondence with 
Lubbock, 184; with Spencer, 
185; with Latham, 185; with 
Lecky, 185 ; with Dawkins, 187; 
with Tylor, 187-8; made hon. 
member of societies, 189; nego- 
tiations, etc., with Vallejo, 202- 
14; manuscripts procured by, 
207-14, 220, 226-8, 230-3, 235-6, 
263-81, 285-96 ; negotiations 
with Vallejo, 202-14; second 
marriage, 242-4; visit to Sutter, 
245-8; archives collected by, 
251-3,254-8; meeting, etc., with 
Judge Hayes, 259-62, 273-4; 
with Amat, 267; with Vila, 
268-9 y with Gonzalez, 269-70 ; 
Romo, 270-2 ; northern trip, 
282-97; meeting with Begbie, 
282; with Elliott, 2S2-4; with 
Richards, 284; with Tod, 287; 
with McKinlay, 285 ; with Tol- 
mie, 285 ; with Finlayson, 285 ; 
with Anderson, 285 ; with Evans, 
292 ; with Brown, 294 ; fire in 
1873, 315-6; newspapers, col- 
lection of, 317; Draper's letter 
to, 318-9 ; Holmes's letter to, 
319; literary method, 330-48; 
on retiring from business, 34 1-3 ; 
correspondence with Swan, 
351-2; with Gonzalez, 354-5 5 
with Brioso, 355 ; with Cuadra, 
355-6; with Barrios, 356; hab- 
its and regulations of, 373-83 ; 
trip to Mexico, 1883-4, 384-6; 
conversation with U. S. minister 
in Mexico, 389-90 ; meetings 
with prominent Mexicans, 390-5 ; 



with Mormons in Utah, 408-9; 
with prom, men in Col., Wy., 
andN. Mex., 409-11; acquisition 
of property, and future plans, 412- 
4; San Francisco establishment 
burned, 414-22 ; loyalty vs. dis- 
loyalty, 423-4; plans of recon- 
struction, 424-5 ; organization 
of new business houses, 426-34. 

Bancroft, V/. B., mention of, 434. 

Barrios, President, correspondence 
with, 356. 

Barroeta, Dr. and Prof., kindness 
at San Luis Potosi, 386. 

Begbie, Sir, M. B., courtesy of, 282. 

Biblioteca Nacional de Mex., ex- 
tensive description of, 395-6. 

Bokkelen, J. J. H. Van, dictation 
of, 290. 

Bookstores, Eng. and cont, 92-6. 

Boronda, C, dictation of, 280. 

Bosquetti, career of, 126-8; 349. . 

Brioso, Minister, correspondence 
with, 355. 

British Columbia, material for hist, 
of, 263-91. 

^British Quarterly' reviews * Native 
Races', 189. 

Brown, J., London agent for 
< Native Races,' 183-6. 

Brown, J. H., material furnished 
by, 294. 

Buckingham, W., material fur- 
nished by, 286-7. 

Buffalo Hist. Soc, hon. member 
of, 189. 

Burgos, bookstores of, 95. 



* California,' hist, of, its impartiality 
and exhaustiveness, xviii-xxi ; 
development of, 4, 13; condition 
of, 1856, 6 ; Nordhoff 's remarks 
on, 8 ; Grace Greenwood's re- 
marks on, 11-12; literature in, 
II-12; effect of climate, II-12, 
19-20 ; mining in, 60-1 ; arch- 
ives of, 250-8 ; material for his- 
tory of, 322. 



INDEX. 



439 



'California Inter Pocula,* mention 
of, 328; reason for publication 
of, 363-4- 

* California Pastoral,' mention of, 

328; reason for publication of, 
363. 

Cannon, Geo. Q., mention of, 409. 

Carey, J. M., prom, man of Wyom- 
ing, mention of, 410. 

Carrillo, P., papers and reminis- 
cences of, 277. 

* Cartography of the Pacific Coast,' 

compilation of, 314-5. 

Cazeneuve,F. G., Mexican journal- 
ist, mention of, 394. 

Ceballos, J. Mexican statesman, 
mention of, 394. 

Central America, authorities for 
hist, of, 321 ; material for hist, 
of, 354-8. 

Cerruti, E., character and abilities, 
192-6; at library work, 192-6; 
negotiations with Vallejo, 202- 
14; * Ramblings ' MS., 216-20; 
intercourse with Alvarado, 
226-8; with Vallejo, 230-1, 
233-4; death, 240. 

Chad wick, S. F., meeting with, 292. 

Charles, W., material furnished by, 
286. 

Chavero, Alfredo,his literary stand- 
ing, 390. 

Chaves, of Santa Fe, kindness of, 
411. 

Cholula, descript. of, 399-402. 

* Chronicles of the Builders of the 

Commonwealth,' necessary com- 
plement to the historical series, 
1-2, 363, 372 ; value of to future 
generations, 4-5 ; magazine of 
knowledge, 124; importance of 
living witnesses, 151 ; justice to 
founders of empire, 328. 

Church, J. A., reviews * Native 
Races,' 181. 

Coleman, W. T. , material furnished 
by, 369. 

Colorado, hist, of, xviii ; cond. of, 
409 ; data for her hist. , 409-IO. 

Colley, F. A., mention of, 434. 

Cook, Capt., in Alaska, 303, 305. 



Compton, P. N., dictation of, 285. 
Comapala, Father, meeting with, 

267. 
Corlett, W. W., mention of, 410. 
Coronel, I., papers of, 277. 
Crescent City, early times there, 

68-71. 
Cuadra, President, correspondence 

with, 355-6. 
Gushing, C, sale of his library, 104. 
Cunniffe, of Las Cruces, kindness 

of, 411. 

D 

Damon, S. E., material supplied 

by, 360. 
Dana, C, courtesy of, 280. 
Dawkins, W. B., correspondence 

with, 187. 
Deady, M. P., dictation of, 295-6. 
Deans, J., dictation of, 285. 
Defouri, of Santa Fe, kindness of, 

410. 
Dempster, C. J., material furnished 

by, 369-70- 
Derby, G. H., mention of, 44, 45 ; 

character, 49, 51 ; business ven- 
tures, 54; death of, 65. 
Derby, J. C, mention of, 55, 177. 
Derby, Mrs., marriage of, 41 ; 

death of husband, 65 ; business 

relations with, 74-5. 
Deschamps, remarks on the An- 

drade collection, 100. 
Diaz, Porfirio, presid. of Mex., re- 
marks on, 394-5. 
Dominguez, D., material furnished 

by, 279-80. 
Dorland, Thomas A. C, mention 

of, 434- 
Douglas, J. M., material furnished 

by, 286. 
Douglas, Lady, mention of, 282, 

286, 289. 
Douglas, Sir J., mention of, 2S5-6. 
Downey, J. G., kindness of, 277. 
Downey, S. W., mention of, 410. 
Downs, Francis, service of, 411. 
Doyle, J. T., material furnished by, 

361. 



440 



INDEX. 



Draper J. W., interview with, 176; 

correspondence with, 318-19. 
Dry Creek, mining on, 1852, 61-3. 



E 

* Edinburgh Review,' article on 

'Native Races,' 189. 
Egan, Judge, kindness of, 279. 
Eldridge, H. S., mention of, 409. 
Ellicott, Capt., dictation of, 291. 
Ellison, Sam., keeper of archives at 

Santa Fe, 410. 
Elwyn, T., material furnished by, 

285. ^' 

Elliott, A. C, meeting with, 282-4; 

material furnished by, 285. 

* Essays and Miscellany,' mention 

of, 328. 
Estudillo, J. M., dictation of, 278. 
Etholen, Gov., courtesy of, 353. 
Evans, Elwood, materials supplied 

by, 292; manuscript furnished by, 

350-1. 
Ezquer, I., dictation of, 280. 



Farwell, S., material furnished by, 
286. ^' 

Fernandez, R., gov. of Mex., men- 
tion of, 393. 

Finlayson, R., reminiscences of, 
285 ; manuscript of, 289. 

Fiske, of Santa Fe, kindness of,4i i. 

Fitzsimons, Father, information 
furnished by, 356. 

Ford, manuscript of, 361. 

Foster, J., dictation of, 278, 

Fuentes y Muniz, J., Mex'n min. 
of the treasury, mention of, 394. 



'Galaxy' reviews * Native Races,' 

181. 
Garay, F. de, Mex'n engineer of 

abihty, 393. 



Garcia Torres, V., character, and 
kind assistance, 390. 

Garcia, I., dictation of, 280. 

*Globus,'articleson* Native Races ' 
187. 

Gonzalez, President, correspond- 
ence with, 354-5. 

Gonzalez, R., dictation of, 279. 

Gonzalez, Father, visit to, 269-70. 

Good, Rev., manuscript of, 287. 

Grant, Heber J., mention of, 409. 

Greenwood, Grace, remarks on 
Cal., 11-12. 

Greenbaum, kindness of, 303. 

Grover, Senator, dictation of, 295. 

Guadalupe, Virgin of, information 
on, 392-3. 

Guerra, D« la, papers of, 279. 



H 

Hale, E. E., correspondence with, 

175-6. 
Hancock, S., manuscript of, 290. 

Hanford, Mrs. A. J., manuscript of, 
291. 

Hartnell, W., papers of, 232-3; 
biog, 232-3. 

Harvey, Mrs. mention of, 292. 

Hawes, Father, kindness of, 276. 

Hawthorne, J. C., mention of, 
293. 

Hayes, Benj., collection of, 259-61 ; 
arrangement with, 273-4; mate- 
rial supplied by, 279. 

Hayford, J. H., mention of, 410. 

Hay ward, C. B., kindness of, 411. 

Helmcken, Dr., material supplied 
by, 285. 

Hernandez y Davalos, J. E., Mex. 
writer, biograph. sketch, 391-2. 

Hills, George, material furnished 
by, 286. 

History Building, construction of, 
427; occupation, 433-4. 

History Company, The, organiza- 
tion and object, 426-33 ; occupies 
the History Building, 433-4. 

'History of the Pacific States,' 
method of preparation, xviii- 



INDEX. 



441 



xxxi;. primary object, 2 ; origin- 
ality of plan, 3-4 ; field for, im- 
portance of, 5-6; appreciation of 
in Cal., 9-1 1; books and mate- 
rial collected for, 8-107, 177-8, 
182, 231-3, 259-62, 280, 299-307, 
317,322,349-62, 368-70; prep- 
aration of material, 136-45; 
scope of work, 147,153; intro- 
duction to, 153, 156; manuscripts 
procured for, 207-14, 220, 226-8, 
230-3, 235-6, 263-5, 266,275-81, 
300; selectionof type, 313; mag- 
nitude of the task, 319-21 ; plan 
of work, 321-3, 326-8; printing 
and publication of, 326-8; further 
search for material, 403-1 1 ; pe- 
cuniary condition after fire of 
April, 1886, 415-16; pub. and 
sale, how conducted, 426-30. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, corre- 
spondence with, 175, 319. 

Howells, W. H., correspondence 
with, 179-80. 

Hoyt, John W., mention of, 410. 

Hudson^s Bay Company, headquar- 
ters of, 297. 



Icazbalceta, Joaq. Garcia, Mex'n 
antiquary and bibliographer, 394. 

Iglesias, Jose M., Mex'n states- 
man, 393. 

* Independent ' reviews * Native 
Races,' 189-90. 

Indico, J., keeper of Mex'n ar- 
chives, mention of, 394, 398. 

Innokentie, Bishop, courtesy of,353. 

Inquisition, records ofinMex., 398. 



Jackson, E., mention of, 186. 
Janssens, A., dictation of, 279. 
Jennings, W., mention of, 409. 
Jesuits, on extinction of, in Mex., 

398. 

Journals and journalists in Mex. 
under gov. pay, 390. 



K 

Kasherarof, Father, information 

furnished by, 301. 
Kenny, G. L., character, etc., of, 

53-4; goes to Cal., 1852, 56-7; 

mention of, 62, 65 ; partnerships, 

66-7, 77. 
King, Clarence, character of, 178; 

meeting with Bancroft, 178-9; 

reviews * Native Races,' 1 79-80 ; 

correspondence with, 180-9. 
Klinkofstrom, Mr., mention of, 

352. 
* Kolnische Zeitung ' reviews * Na- 
tive Races,' 186. 
Kraszewski, M., dictation of, 278. 



Lamy, Archbishop of N. M., kind- 
ness of, 411. 
Lane, Gen. Jo., dictations of, 293. 

* La Republique Fran^aise ' re- 

views * Native Races,' 188. 
Latham, Dr., correspondence with, 

185. 

Lawson, J. S., manuscript of, 290. 
Lecky, W. E. H., correspondence 
with, 185. 

* Le Temps ' reviews * Native 

Races,' 188. 

Levashef, Capt., in Alaska, 303. 

Libraries, in Nuevo Leon and Zac- 
atecas, 385 ; San Luis Potosi, 
386-7; Riva Palacios in Mex., 
391 ; Biblioteca Nacional, and 
Archivo General y Publico de 
la Nacion, in Mex., 395-8; Ba- 
salio Perez, Agreda, San Ilde- 
fonso, 398 ; Toluca, Puebla, 399 . 

Library, The Bancroft, formation 
of, x-xi ; how it was utilized, 
xi-xxiii ; removal to a place of 
safety, xxiii ; origin of, 88 ; col- 
lecting books and material 
for, 89-107, 125-6; note-taking, 
93-4; number of vols, in 1869, 
106; description of, 108-12; 
classification and arrangement 



442 



INDEX. 



of vols. , 1 1 1-I2 ; system of cata- 
loguing, 1 12-13; contents of, 
1 14-19; remarkable features of, 
120-23; work at, 308-24; sys- 
tem of work, 308-24; rapid 
growth of, 308 ; system of note- 
taking, 309-13 ; incompetent in- 
dexers, 314 ; fireof 1873, 315-6 ; 
removal of, 324 ; fortunate move, 
419, 422-3. 

* Literary Industries,' origin of, 

vii. ; accomplishment, viii-ix; 
author's qualifications, ix ; his 
literary aspirations and meth- 
ods, x-xxxi ; publication of, 4. 

Literature, evolution of, in Cal., 
8-20; effect of climate, 11-14- 
19-20; of surroundings, 14--19; 
of wealth, 20-4. 

Little, Feramorz, mention of, 409. 

* Live Stock Journal ', mention of, 

410. 
Lombardo, Alberto, mention of, 

393- 
London, book-collecting in, 92. 
Longmans & Co., publishers for 

* Native Races, ' 183. 
Lorenzana, A., dictation of, 279. 
Lovejoy, A. L., dictation of, 295. 
Lowell, J. R., interview with, 

1 71-2. 
Lubbock, Sir John, * Native Races' 

dedication, 184, 
Lugo, J., papers and reminiscences 

of, 277. 
Lutke, Admiral, courtesy of, 353. 



M 

Madrid, bookstores of, 95. 

Maisonneuve et Cie. publish 'Na- 
tive Races,' 188. 

Makushino, old chief, 303-4. 

Manero, Vic. E., Mexican architect 
and engineer, mention of, 393-4. 

Manuscripts, M. G. Vallejo's, 207- 
14; Fernandez's, 220; Alvarado's, 
226-8, 230 ; Thompson's, 231 ; 
Castro's, 232 ; Hartnell's, 232-3 ; 
J. de J. Vallejo's, 235-6; Lar- 



kin's, 236; Sutter's, 248; Ban- 
dini's, 263-5 ; Warner's, 266, 277; 
Sepulveda's, 266; Widney's, 266 ; 
Valdes', 267, 279 ; Arnaz's, 267, 
279; Hayes', 259-61, 273-4, 279; 
Coronel's, 277; Requena's, 277; 
Lugo's, J., 277; Perez's, 277; Car- 
rillo's, 277; Wilson's, 277; Ve- 
ga's, 277 ; Foster's, 278 ; Vejar's, 
278; White's, 278; Romero's, 
278; Avila's, 278; Kraszevvski's, 
278; Osuna's, 278; Estudillo's, 
278; Ord's, 279; Guerra's, 279; 
Janssens', 279; Lorenzana's,279; 
Gonzalez's, 279; Pico's, 277,279- . 
80; Nidever's, 280; Garcia's, 280; 
Boronda's, 280; Ezquer's, 280; 
Murray's, 280 ; Sproat's, 285 ; 
Pemberton's, 285 ; Helmcken's, 
285 ; Elwyn's, 285; Vowel's, 285; 
Elliott's, 285; Compton's, 285; 
Muir's,285; Allen's,285; Dean's, 
285 ; Anderson's, 285, 289; Tol- 
mie's, 285, 288; Charles', 286; 
Hill's, 286; Good's, 287; Tod's, 
287; Swan's, 290; Bokkelen's, 
290 ; Hancock's, 290 ; Lawson's, 
290; Hanford's, 291 ; Parker's, 
291 ; ElHcott's, 291 ; Evans', 292; 
Lane's, 293 ; Grover's, 295 ; Pal- 
mer's, 295; Nesmith's, 295; 
Moss', 295 ; Lovejoy's, 295 ; 
Fonts', 295; Strong's, 295-6; 
Deady's, 295-6 ; McKay's, 300 ; 
Evans', 250-1 ; Powers', 352 ; 
Osio's, 360-1 ; Ford's, 361 ; Wit- 
ley's, 361 ; Dempster's, 369 ; 
Coleman's, 369; President Diaz's 
dictation, 394; Vigil's description 
of Mexican National library, 395 ; 
copies from Mexico's National li- 
brary, 396 ; Stone on Colorado, 
410 ; copies of N. Mex. archives, 
410. 

Massachusetts Hist. Soc, hon. 
member of, 189. 

Maximilian, Emperor, library of, 
99. 

Mclntyre, material furnished by, 
301, 304; mummy presented by, 
301. 



INDEX. 



443 



McKay, material furnished by, 300. 

McKinlay, A., reminiscences of, 
285 ; manuscript of, 288. 

McKinney, clerk, courtesy of, 276. 

Mercer, A. S., journalist ofWyo. 
. mention of, 410. 

Mexico, libraries of, 97-101 ; au- 
thorities in hist, of, 321 ; mate- 
rial for hist, of, 357-8; condition 
of the people, 385-6 ; appear, of 
the country, 387-9; Biblioteca 
Nacional, and Archivo Gen. y 
Pub. de la Nacion, full descrip- 
tion of, 395-6; municipal ar- 
chives, 398. 

Minto, Mrs., information furnished 
by, 294-5. 

Mitropolski, Father, material fur- 
nished by, 300. 

Montana, hist, of, xviii. 

Montard, Father, material fur- 
nished by, 303. 

Monterey, archives and libraries, 

385. 

Mora, Bishop, material furnished 
by, 277. 

Moreno, Secretary, mention of, 
278; material furnished by his 
widow, 278. 

Morgan, E. S. N., sec. of state of 
Wyo., 410. 

Mormon, material for history, 
407-9. 

Morrison, Geo. Howard, biogra- 
phy of, 432"'3- 

Moss, S. W., dictation of, 295, 

Muir, M., dictation of, 285, 

Murray, W., diary of, 280. 

Mut, Father, courtesy of, 279. 



64 ; elaboration of, 63-4 ; execu- 
tion of plan, 164-6; pubhcation 
of, 168-71, 177; reviews and 
opinion of, 172-6; 180-1, 185- 
90; dedication of, 184; cuts, 313; 
type, 313 ; origin of the Ameri- 
cans, 313-14; completion of, 
317-20. 

Nemos, W., at library, 309-13. 

Nesmith, J. W., manuscript of, 295. 

Nevada, hist, of, xviii. 

New Mexico, material for hist, of, 
358,410-11. 

Newspapers, collection of, 317. 

* New York Tribune ' reviews 

' Native Races,' 189. 
Nickerson, H. G., mention of, 410. 
Nidever, pioneer, dictation of, 280. 
Nordhoff, C., remarks on Cah, 8; 

interview with, 1 76-7. 

* North American Review ' on 

^Native Races,' 175. 
Nutchuks, legend of, 301-2. 



O 

Oak, H. L., editor ' Occident,' 125 ; 

librarian, 128, 131, 133, 138, 314. 
Olaquibel, impresiones celebres y 

libros raros, 399. 
01 vera, C., collection of, 280. 
Oregon, hist, of, xviii; material for 

hist, of, 292-9 ; 350-1. 
Ord, Mrs., dictation of, 279. 
Osio, manuscript of, 260-1. 
Osuna, J., dictation of, 278. 



N 

Naranjo, Gen., Mexican statesman, 
mention of, 393. 

' Nation * reviews * Native Races,' 
181. 

* Native Races of the Pacific States,' 
preparation of, xvi-xvii; opin- 
ions of competent critics, xvii ; 
truthfulness, xxi ; plan of, 158- 



Pacheco, Carlos, sterling worth and 
milit. services, 393. 

'Pacific Coast Almanac,' publica- 
tion of, X. 

Pacific States, hist, of, how pre- 
pared, xviii-xxxi. 

Palmer, Joel, dictation of, 295. 

Park, John R., mention of, 409. 

Parker, Capt., dictation of, 291. 

Parkman, Francis, reviews, 1 74-5. 



444 



INDEX. 



Parrish, Missionary, mention of, 

294. 
Parsons, Geo. F., introduction to 

the * Literary Industries,' vii- 

xxxi. 
Pavlof, information furnished by, 

301. 
Paz, Ireneo, his biograph. notice 

of H. H. Bancroft, 390. 
Pedro, Emperor Dom, visits to 

library, 358. 
Pemberton, J. D., material sup- 
plied by, 285. 
Penrose, C. W., mention of, 409. 
Peralta, F., Cerruti's meeting with, 

216-17. 
Perez, A., dictation of, 277. 
Petroff, I., visit to Alaska, 299- 

307- 

Phil. Numismatic Soc, hon. mem- 
ber of, 189. 

Phillips, Wendell, correspondence 
with, 172-3. 

Phillips, of Santa Fe, kindness of, 
411. 

Pico, A., documents of, 277. 

Pico, C, material furnished by, 
279-80. 

Pico, P., books preserved in fam- 
ily, 266-7 > dictation of, 277. 

Pico, J. de J., courtesy of, 280. 

Pinart, A. L., biog., 352-3 ; mate- 
rial furnished by, 353. 

Pinto, R., collection of, 280. 

Polygamy, how held by Mormon 
women, 409. 

* Popular Tribunals,' mention of, 
328 ; preparation of, 365-8 ; ma- 
terial for, 368-70. 

Porter, President, interview with, 

178. 

Powers, S., material furnished by, 

352. 
Preston, W. B., mention of, 409. 
Prieto, Guillermo, mention of, 

393- 

Prince, Gov. L. Bradford, kindness 
of, 411. 

Pryor, P., kindness of, 279. 

Puebla, description of, and libra- 
ries, 399-401- 



R 

Railroad, Pacific, effect of it on 
business, 83-4. 

Ramirez, J. F., sale of his library, 
104-6. 

Requena, M., papers of, 277. 

Revillagigedo, Conde de, viceroy of 
Mex., his efforts to preserve ar- 
chives, and contributions to gen. 
hist, of North America, 397. 

* Revue Britannique ' on * Native 

Races,' 188. 

* Revue des Deux Mondes ' on 

* Native Races,' 188. 

* Revue Litteraire et Politique ' on 

* Native Races,' 188. 
Richards, F. D., mention of, 408. 
Richards, Gov., inter view with, 2S2. 
Rico, F., mention of, 275. 
Ritch, W. G., services of, 411. 
Riva Palacio, V., his library and 

literary labors, 391. 

Rivas, Secretary, materialfurnished 
by, 355-6. 

Robson, J., material furnished by, 
286-7. 

' Rocky Mountain News,' 410. 

Romero, J. M., dictation of, 278. 

Romero Rubio, M., character, abil- 
ity, and polit. standing, 394. 

Romo, Friar J. M., interview with, 
270-2. 

Roussell, Father, courtesy of, 280. 

Roscoe, F. J., material furnished 
by, 287. 

Rubio, Justino, mention of, 396. 



Salas, Jose Mariano, 398. 
Sanchez, Jesus, mention of, 394. 
San Fernando college, archives at, 

250, 268. 
San Francisco, description of, 1852, 

57-9. 

San Luis Potosi, archives and li- 
brary, 386-7. 

* Saturday Review,' article on * Na- 
tive Races,' 189. 



INDEX. 



445 



Savage, T., material collected by, 

275-81. 
Scliiefner, A., mention of, 352. 

* Scribner's Magazine' reviews 

' Native Races,' 189. 
Seghers, Bishop, material furnished 

by, 303. 

Selva, C, material furnished by, 

355. 

Sepulveda, Y., kindness of, 266, 
277-9. 

Serra, Father J., mention of, 260-1 ; 
265. 

Shashnikof, Father, material fur- 
nished by, 303-4. 

Siliceo, Luis, Mex. writer, 394. 

Sladen, Colonel, material furnished 
by, 292. 

Slaughter, John, mention of, 412. 

Smith, Jos. F., mention of, 409. 

Snow, Erastus, mention of, 409. 

Sociedad de Geografia y Estatis- 
tica, introduction to its mem- 
bers, 390. 

Sosa, F., litterateur and journalist, 

391. 
Spencer, Herbert, correspondence 
with, 185, 189. 

* Spectator,' article on * Native 

Races,' 189. 
Spofford, librarian of Congress, 

interview with, 181-2. 
Sproat, G. M., material supplied 

by, 285. 
Squier, E. G., library of, 103-4; 

purchase of his collection, 354, 

358-60. 
Stafeifk, information furnished by, 

301. 
Stanton, E. M., mention of, 251. 
Stanton, F. J., mention of, 410. 
Stone, Judge, historical manuscript 

on Colorado, 410. 
Stone, N. J., manager of publishing 

department, 325 ; mention of, 

414; his connection with theHist. 

of the Pacific States, 428; biog. 

sketch, 430-32. 
Strong, W., dictation of, 295-6. 
Stevens, H., books procured from, 

103-6. 



Sturgis, T., mention of, 410. 

Sutter, J. A., visit to, 245-8; manu- 
script furnished by, 248. 

Swan, J. G., collection and manu- 
scripts of, 290 ; correspondence 
with, 351-2. 



Thatcher, Moses, mention of, 409. 

Thayer, of Santa Fe, kindness of, 
411. 

* Times,' London, reviews * Nat- 
ive Races,' 186. 

Tod, J., manuscript of, 287. 

Tolmie, W. F., reminiscences of, 
285-8. 

Toro, Juan, mention of, 393. 

Turner, L., information furnished 

by, 303- 
Tylor, E. B., correspondence with, 
187-8. 

U 

Ubach, Father, collection of, 262. 
Utah, hist, of, 407-11. 



Valdes, R., mention of, 267. 

Valdez, of N. Mex., kindness of, 
411. 

Vallarta, F. L., mention of, 393. 

Valle, I. del., dictation of, 279. 

Vallejo, J. de J. , dictation of, 235-6. 

Vallejo, M. de G., his biog., 196- 
201; library of, 196-7; charac- 
ter, 199-201 ; negotiations with, 
202-14 'y * Ilistoria de Califor- 
nia,' MS., 214, 238-9 ; tour of 
220-1, 230-40 ; negotiations with 
Alvarado, 223-6. 

Vallejo, S,, mention of, 205-6, 209. 

Van Patten, of Las Cruces, kind- 
ness of, 411. 

Vega, v., dictation of, 277. 

Vega, Gen. P., his collection of 
documents, 356-7. 

Vejar, P., dictation of, 278. 



446 



INDEX. 



Veniaminof, I., courtesy of, 353. 

Vigil, J. M., director of 'the Mex'n 
National Library, mention of, 
393 ; his descript. of the library, 

395- 

Vila, Father J., Bancroft's visit to, 
268-9. 

Villarasa, Father, material fur- 
nished by, 356. 

Vowel, A. W., material furnished 
by, 285. 

W 

Waldo, Daniel, mention of, 294. 
Walden, J., catalogue prepared, 

93- 

Warner, J. J., reminiscences, 266; 

* Recollections ' manuscript, 277. 
* Westminster Review ' on * Native 

Races,' 189. 
White, E., interviews with, 292. 
Whitehead, J. R., mention of, 

410. 



Whitaker, J., purchasing agent, 93 ; 
books selected by, 101-2; corre- 
spondence with, 105. 

Whittier, J. G., interview with, 

173-4. 

White, M., dictation of, 278. 

Willey, S. H., courtesy of, 361 ; 
material furnished by, 361. 

Wilson, B. D., dictation of, 277. 

Woodruff, W., interview with, 408. 

Wyoming, data for hist, of, how ob- 
tained, 410. 



Young, Brigham, mention of, 409. 



Zacatecas, Ortega's priv. libr., 385. 
Zaldo, R. de, mention of, 215-16. 
Zakarof, information furnished by, 
301. 



SCOTT'S JOURNAL. 

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